


Nyx Goddess Of Night

by This_kitty_has_claws



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, I Cannot Stress that Enough, It's bad, Smutt, The Author Regrets Nothing, Violence, WIP, crossover sort of, i cried, read at your own peril, soul bonds, tiniest amount of fluff in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:29:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11320119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_kitty_has_claws/pseuds/This_kitty_has_claws
Summary: Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And SmutPairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader





	1. The Departure

Walking lightly, twigs and dried leaves crunching beneath your feet, the long white sundress you’re wearing morphs into a shimmering black one. A veil of stars trails behind you, the very light seems to be sucked out of the sky, throwing the world into darkness as you let your nature take over. 

Skimming fingers gently over the barks of trees as you walk, wings blacker than the darkest night unfurling from your back. You let out a content sigh. It was good to let go. The stomping of boots behind you gets ignored. You knew he would follow, he always did. 

The embodiment of Erebus, the man you had been seeking for millennia. 

Your very heart and soul. 

Focusing your attention on the shimmering lake before you, you let the last of the transformation take hold, skin fluorescing in the darkness, hair twinkling with the light of stars. Stopping at the foot of the lake, you ready yourself for another fight, another battle of wills, hurtful words and destroyed hearts. 

He was broken your Erebus, years of suffering shaping him into a shadow of what you knew. 

You could barely stand it, seeing the once mighty warrior brought low before you. That which made him strong now destroying the very fabric of his mind. It pained you to see him this way, to know he could not accept what he was or who he was no matter how strongly you felt for each other. There were few good moments left now. He spent most days avoiding your presence, seeking out the company of Steve or Natalia instead. 

Again, you were left alone. The one who could understand you rejecting you instead. 

It comes as a surprise when Steve appears beside you. 

Your heart sinks. 

He would not come to you this time. Your Bucky. He had made his choice. 

You let a single tear fall before facing Steve. “It is over then. He will not come?” you ask even though you already know the truth. You can't help the sliver of hope which makes its way into your tone. 

Searching Steve’s eyes for an answer, the one you find is the one you hate. 

Steve shakes his head apologetically, resting a meaty hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, doll. He’ll come around, he just needs time.” 

You know he won’t. 

Steve is merely placating you, wishing to avoid another fight, another meltdown, more tears. 

You smile affectionately at the blond super soldier. “Do not lie to me, Steven. I may be old, but I am not stupid. He has made his choice. I will respect it and leave.” Placing a hand over the one resting on your shoulder, you bring it to your lips, placing a kiss to the knuckle. “Thor has offered me a home with them until I can find one of my own. I had hoped it would be with you and the others, but I am causing more harm than good.” Letting out a broken sigh, you shake your head. “I have been wandering for so long. I wish only to settle. Find peace. Forget… him.”

Steve lets out the breath he had been holding, the pain in your voice sending a sharp pang of regret through his chest. “You don't hafta leave, (Y/N). We need ya here. Bucky will adjust to... the new circumstances.”

Laughing lightly, a beautiful sound, like cascading waterfalls weighted by the fullness of time, you turn your face away. “What is worse than love lost, Steve? Knowing what could be, the happiness you could have if only the object of your affection would accept you?” Lifting your hand, you let a star take shape in your palm. “It is beautiful, love. It shines brightly, it blinds you, warms you, melts away the worries of the world.” Dimming the star, it desperately tries to keep its glow in your hand, fighting to survive as you suck the light out of it. “But once it fades, there is naught left but ash, dashed hopes and broken dreams accompanied by the lingering ache of rejection. I cannot stay here. I cannot live in such close proximity to him without dimming my light.” Letting the ash from fall your hand, you watch as it scatters in the wind. The dull ache in your chest roars to life with every word you speak. 

“He loves you, Nyx. He’s just overwhelmed.” He knows his words are futile even as he speaks them. 

You will leave, no matter how hard he kicked against it, but he felt he had to try, to make you stay, to keep you with him. It was a secret he’d harboured for years. The love he felt for you. He couldn't bare to watch you walk away, but he knew he couldn’t keep you from going. 

Steve sighs, “How will you get to Asgard?”

“I have sent word to Heimdall. The portal should open shortly. Loki will be waiting for me when I get there.” Smiling gently at the scowl on Steve’s face, you lay a loving hand on his forearm. “Worry not for me, dear friend. Loki and I have an understanding. He will do me no harm,” you reassure him. 

He seems to accept this, nodding once. 

You stare out into the distance in companionable silence.

“I... could have made you happy,” Steve whispers, staring fixedly at a point in the distance, hands clenching at his sides. “I know I could have made you happy,” his voice cracks slightly. 

You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around him as the wind whips around you, lifting your hair around your face. You had mere moments before Heimdall would reach for you, before you would leave the home you had known for these past five years, never to return. Touching his face, you kiss him softly on the lips. 

His startled gasp bringing a smile to your face. 

“You would have made me happy, Steve,” you say as the sky opens in a hail of light. Reaching your arms upward, you embrace Heimdall’s light. “But I would have destroyed you.” Running a delicate finger across his cheek,he grits his teeth against the emotion coursing through him. “Darkness cannot live in light, Steven,” are the last words you speak as you are yanked upward, flying through space in a blur of light and sound, hurtling toward a new life, far away from your Erebus, from Bucky. The man who had been your love through eons, birthed from Chaos and fire. 

You gasp as you land lightly at the gates of Asgard, a grinning Loki smiling down at you. 

“Well, if it isn't the little Goddess of Night,” he quips, a smirk plastered firmly on his face. 

Chuckling lightly at his playful ribbing, you cock an eyebrow. “Loki, my little mischief God. It is good to see you again, my friend,” you reply, the smile slipping off your face as the exhilaration wears off replaced by the dull pain, the ache which threatens to split the seams of your heart.

Loki frowns at you, not liking the way your light seems to have dimmed. He claps his hands together, bringing you out of your reflection. “Come, you must tell me of your adventures with those cretins. How you stomach those Midgardians I will never know.” Linking his arm with yours, he spares a nod for Heimdall, leading you to your designated rooms. 

“Tell me what has happened, Nyx,” he asks gently, concern making it past the hard shell he places around himself, something highly out of character for the Mischief God. 

You blink owlishly at him, temporarily caught off guard by the turn in conversation. “I found Erebus, Loki,” you whisper, ignoring the sharp intake of breath.

“Then why have you returned?” he asks, dumbfounded. 

You stop abruptly, effectively yanking Loki back. 

He stares at you, mild annoyance flashing over his features. He opens his mouth to speak, a stinging retort on the tip of his tongue, silenced quickly by the horror painted on your face. “Nyx?” he asks, concern bubbling inside him. 

Your wet eyes meet his, breath huffing our in short, sharp pants. 

Loki is in front of you in seconds, crushing you to his chest as the pain you have been holding inside these past months flows out. 

“He would not have me, Loki,” you repeat over and over as you break down in the Mischief God's arms.


	2. Loki

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

The years had passed quickly, blurring into a whirl of golden halls and feasts. 

Freya had been most accommodating, giving you a place in the royal household and title as Princess. 

The announcement had Loki giggling for days. “You are a Primordial Goddess, the personification of night and darkness, yet you preen at the notion of being a princess?” He laughs uproariously as you tsked at him, gathering the shimmery silver dress in your hands, ready to launch yourself at him. “Erebus and those pesky children of yours must not have known how to treat a Queen,” he quips. The smile falls from his face as he realises what he’s said. True to Loki’s nature he does not apologize, he merely grimaces at you, the apology written in his eyes. 

You smile warmly at him. “Do not fret, dear friend. I have made my peace.” 

Loki snorts out loud. 

You quirk an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation.

“I know you visit the pools, Nyx. You watch him. You have visited twice a day these past six years. You fool no one,” he says mildly, refocusing on the book in his hands.

You sigh, flopping down into the chaise lounger, rearranging the skirt of your dress. “I admit I wish to know how he fares. If he...” you trail off, knowing the answer. It had torn a hole so deep in your heart you had spent days in your chamber refusing Loki and Thor's efforts to lure you out of your rooms. 

Loki snaps the book shut, an exasperated sigh escaping him. “You wish to know if he mourns you? If he pines for you as you do for him?” he says simply.

He arches a perfect eyebrow as the pain filters briefly over your face. “And you found he has moved on from you. Which is why you refuse Thor every time he begs you to accompany him to Midgard!” Groaning out loud he moves toward you, lifting your legs and sitting at the end of the lounger, placing your feet in his lap. “You still have not told me why you left, sister. I wish to know. You are not as you once were. I demand to know why!” 

Your tinkling laugh fills the room, briefly lighting up the darkness in Loki's eyes. “You would make demands of me, brother mine? I, who could smite you with a quirk of my brow?” 

He smiles briefly before his expression turns somber. “We are outcasts here,” he says so quietly you have to strain to here him. “We have been adopted into the house of Odin, given titles and privilege. We treat them as family, yet they will fear us, always. I wish only to protect you, you who has brought light to my dark. You who I see as a sister.” 

A rush of affection fills you as he speaks the words, binding you more tightly to him. You lightly squeeze his hand, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. “Your overprotectiveness is going to get me in trouble, brother.” 

He grins wickedly, eyes lighting up. “Unburden yourself, Nyx. I may be a cold bastard but I understand pain.” 

You consider him briefly, weighing the options in front of you. Loki rarely showed emotion. It was a skill you envied. 

Sighing you resign yourself to the fact that you would have to tell the story. Painful as it was. “Fury found me. I had been held in a Hydra base for years. They had developed a drug which kept my power from me. From what I could gather, they had intended to extract my essence... my grace from me in an attempt to create soldiers loyal to them.” Closing your eyes against the flood of memories, days of torture and abuse filter across your mind. You had been held hostage since Hydras inception. Decades of pain and agony, screams in the dead of the night. “It was there I first met him. The man now known as Bucky Barnes. I knew when I first laid eyes on him, he was Erebus reincarnated. My soul screamed for him, such joy I had not experienced in many years.” 

Loki snarled next to you. The thought of anyone hurting you fraying the edges of his control. 

You pat him gently on the hand. “But he knew me not. His mind was an empty void. No emotion left in him. His torture was worse than mine. They took everything that made him who he was away from him. I could hear his screams as they toyed with his mind,” you pause to take in a shaky breath. The memory leaving your ears ringing and heart aching, “he escaped shortly afterward. Such relief filled me as the news was whispered through the prison. He would be free from pain. Or so I thought.

The Captain found me a few years afterward on the orders of Fury. They gave me a place among the new found Avengers. A place to call home. To my surprise Bucky was there. He took me under his wing, he remembered me from his time at the base and felt it was his duty to reintegrate me into society, to help me cope with the horrors I had endured. It was a mistake on both our parts.” Weaving your hands into the material of your skirt, willing away the threatening tears, you force yourself to continue. 

“We fell into a relationship quickly. It was bliss. Days spent healing each other, speaking of things we had not voiced aloud to another being. Night's spent making love, sweet words whispered in the dark. And that's when I made my mistake, the one which tore us apart.” Regret fills you. You wished you had kept it to yourself, that you had not acquiesced to his request. “He begged me to unlock his memory, to fill the holes in his mind, and I agreed.” 

Loki frowns, confusion marring his features. “I do not understand how that would derail the courtship?” he ponders aloud. 

You laugh softly. “I misunderstood what he wanted. I thought he knew who he was. I had hinted at It. I thought he wanted to know everything. Not just what he had done for Hydra.”

Loki groans loudly. “You showed him the fall. Your life in Tartarus.”

You nod. “I showed him everything. The death of our children. Zeus's rebellion. How Hades had cast us out of our home and cursed us to wander. I had thought, like me he possessed some memory. I was sorely misinformed.” A pained whimper escapes your throat as your mind supplies the look of horror on Bucky's face when he remembered. “It was not the same after that. He did not look at me with love anymore. He looked at me with regret and sorrow which soon turned to anger and scorn. He could not accept he was Erebus reborn. He convinced himself I had played with his mind as hydra had. The last words he spoke to me were words of hate. I could not stay after they were spoken.” You wrap your arms around yourself trying to keep yourself from falling apart. “He has now found love with another. He seems happy. I wish him nothing less,” you murmur. 

Loki grits his teeth, pulling your unresisting from into his lean chest. “Sweet sister” he croons as he strokes your hair. 

Your soft sobs stain his tunic with tears. 

“Never again will you feel pain. He is a fool. Think nothing more of him. As long as there is breath in my breast I will protect you from all hurt,” he vows. 

You sigh contently, the fierceness in your adoptive brother’s voice calming the pain inside you. “Loki,” you murmur as you drift off in his arms.

“Hmmmm,” he replies.

“You’re so dramatic.” 

He snorts at the response as you fall asleep with a smile on your face.


	3. The Return

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

Storming into the council chamber, wings stretched to their full span as your ire seeps out of you, the ground you walk on cracks with every step you take toward Odin. 

“Leave. Immediately,” you hiss at the gathered council, eyes trained on Odin, who waves his hand dismissing the men. “You dare try and pawn me off? As if I were some sort of broodmare?” you screech at him, all sense of propriety flying out the window. 

“Remember to whom you speak, child. I will not tolerate your insolence in my own home!” Odin replies fiercely. 

“Child? Odin you are playing a dangerous game. I am not yours to sell,” you snarl. “I will not be forced into a marriage against my will!”

He sighs, rising from his seat. Striding toward you, he gently takes you by the arms, shaking you slightly. “A marriage to Thor would cement your place among my people. You would be afforded protection. I am not selling you, Nyx. I wish to protect you. Have you not suffered enough hardship?”

Deflating slightly, eyes downcast, you ponder the truth in his words. “I love him not, Odin. You know this. I will not be a good wife to him. He does not deserve to be saddled to one such as I.” 

He nods, gently tilting your chin so that he can look you in the eye. “I know, but it will strengthen us. He will be king, and he requires someone with sense. Freya knows he lacks it,” he replies as he releases you, turning his back and staring out the window. 

“What will happen if I refuse him?” you ask, already knowing the answer. 

“I will be forced to shun you,” he replies instantly. 

Your heart falls. You would have nowhere to go if Odin cast you out. Returning to the empty existence you knew before being sheltered by the Avengers. 

“Very well. I see I have no choice in the matter. I accept,” bitterness bleeds into your tone. Folding your wings tightly against your back, you turn to leave, intending to find Loki and vent your frustrations.. 

Odin stops you dead in your tracks with his next words. “Thor is required to negotiate with the Ice giants. His duty as the ambassador to Midgard will fall to you. You will be required to leave immediately. The servants have seen to your luggage.” He refuses to meet your eyes. He knows what he has done. 

“Do not make me do this, Odin. I will not survive it.” 

“You must. It is for your own good,” is his reply. “You will never move forward if you keep looking back.” The truth in his words kills any retort you may have made. 

You don't bother replying, choosing instead to make your way to Heimdall and back to Bucky. 

Walking down the gilded hallway, tapestries and ornamentation hang from the walls. Turning a corner, bare feet slapping against the cold stone, you stop before the heavy oak doors which lead you to Thor's quarters. You consider knocking, hand hovering in the air, but the action is unnecessary as the door swings inward revealing a giant wall of man looking flustered and disheveled. You cock an eyebrow, looking him up and down. 

His jaw clenches and he yanks you into the room, throwing the doors closed as he does. “You have heard the news I assume,” he states matter of factly. 

You nod sagely, waiting for the tirade which would inevitably follow. 

He sighs, obviously frustrated with the new circumstance. 

“You could refuse me, Thor. You owe me nothing,” you remind him gently, laying a hand on a muscled forearm. 

He snorts, blue eyes meet yours, the emotion you find in them has a knot forming in your stomach. “I could not, would not refuse you, Princess,” he says as he lays a meaty hand over your smaller one. “I realize you cannot love me as I would wish you too, that your heart lies with another, but I will do all that is in my power to provide you with a happy life, my Queen.”

Sucking in a harsh breath, heart beating wildly in your chest at his words, the many small and seemingly friendly interaction between yourself and the Thunder God take on a wildly different meaning. “Oh, Thor. I am sorry,” you whisper. 

He did not deserve to be saddled with someone who could never love him the way he needed to be loved. 

Furrowing your brow, confusion replacing sorrow you tentatively ask your next question. “I am to go to Midgard, to serve as the ambassador for Asgard. You know what this will bring?” 

Studying his face intently, it seems to drop, before morphing into a scowl so vicious you fight the urge to tremble. “The soul bond,” he snarls, “My father demands you break it.” He seems to grow in size, electricity crackling across his skin as his anger is brought to the surface. “It will kill you!” he roars. “I will not stand for this. It will not be done! You will remain here.” 

A swell of affection fills you for he truly was a good man. 

But Odin was right. 

You needed to cut ties with Erebus, for the sake of your sanity. 

“Sweet, Thor,” you croon, running a soft hand up his arm, watching as goosebumps erupt on his tanned flesh. “Do not fear for me.” Stepping closer to him, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body, he swallows thickly, concern morphs into lust so thick you can taste it on your tongue. “I will return and honor my promise to you,” you whisper. Rising on your tiptoes, you place a kiss to the corner of his plush lips. 

His breath stutters in his chest as his large hands engulf your waist. He rests his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. 

“I will do all that is in my power to be the wife you deserve, my Prince. I will give to you what little I have left and hope that it is enough. This is my promise to you,” you whisper, snaking a hand into his golden locks. “I promise,” you reiterate, willing him to believe you.

He exhales and cautiously tilts your face up, staring deeply into your eyes before he captures your lips in a bruising kiss. All teeth and tongue, he doesn't hold back. He invades your mouth with a fervor which leaves you breathless. 

It was not unpleasant, but it did not invoke the same trembling, roaring need in you that Bucky’s kisses had. It made your heart ache. 

Thor releases you, brushing a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “I will take what you can give and ask for no more, my Queen.” 

You will yourself not to cry. To cry for a love which could have been if you had not met Bucky, if your heart was free. You could have been happy with Thor. 

Sighing you step away from him, turning away from his hopeful expression. “I must go. Odin wishes for me to leave immediately.” Dreading your imminent departure, you would much rather be sitting in the sun room, reading a book while Loki practices his spells.

Thor nods, running a hand through his golden locks. “I will see to it that I visit. Perhaps Loki will join me, if the moods strikes him.” The amusement is clear in his tone. 

A small smile tugs at your lips, alleviating the tension in the room. “I am happy it is you, Thor,” you say as you stride past him. “ I cannot be with he who has my heart, but I am happy it is you. You are good man. You will make a fine King.” You curtsy as you leave, noting the fetching red tint to his cheeks as you go. 

 

***********

The trip down to Midgard leaves you gasping, exhilaration coursing through you as you tried to ground yourself on a new plane. Nostalgia floods you as you stare at the grey walls of the compound. Bitter sweet memories of love and laughter quickly overshadowed by pain and longing. How you wished to be back in Asgard, reading quietly with Loki at your side. Resigning yourself to the fact that you would be stuck here until Thor concluded his business with the Ice Giants, you glide toward the compound and the inevitable chaos your arrival will bring. 

“(Y/N)?” Steve’s disbelieving tone reaches you, his eyes wide as he takes in your appearance. 

Bucky seems frozen beside him, his eyes drinking you in. 

The beautifully woven sheer white dress hugs your curves just right. A long slit up the front of the dress stops far above mid thigh, exposing shapely legs and your bejeweled bare feet. The tiara which rests on your head screaming your status. 

You wish you had the presence of mind to change before the trip. “Captain. Sergeant Barnes. It is good to see you again,” you reply, trying to divert their attention from your attire.

Bucky snaps out of it first, taking an involuntary step toward you. His eyes trying to convey an emotion you refuse to acknowledge. 

Steve places a hand on his friend's shoulder, halting his movements. “We weren't expecting ya. We didn't think we’d be seein ya again,” he says, confusion etched on his face.

“I was not planning on returning. It was last minute. I did not have a choice in the matter,” you reply curtly, avoiding the hardening of Bucky’s face. 

“The why did ya come back if ya didn’t want to?” comes his deep voice. 

It sends a shiver down your spine, one which threatens to break the fragile control you have on your emotions. You wish you had the courage to look him in the eye, to be selfish and close the distance between you, wrap yourself around him and never let go like you had been wanting to do for six long years. 

He was so close you could smell him, nearly taste him on your lips. 

Taking in a steadying breath you raise your eyes to meet his, sticking out your chin defiantly. “I am here at the behest of my King,” you reply, cursing your lack of control as your voice breaks on the last word. 

Bucky sucks in a harsh breath, while Steve exhales, not understanding the implications of your words. 

“King?”’ Steve ventures, “What King?” he asks, as he tries to calm Bucky, his chest rising and falling rapidly as rage seems to engulf him. 

Bucky’s eyes flash black briefly, Erebus making himself known, causing your own breath to hitch. “You found what ya were looking for then... Nyx?” 

That one word is so laced with venom it nearly chokes you. Gritting your teeth, you refuse to rise to the bait, opting instead to remain silent. 

“I don’t understand. What’s happenin’, Buck?” Steve asks as his head swivels between the two of you.

“She’s engaged.” Is his short answer. 

Steve’s eyes go wide, mouth agape as he tries to process the new information. “To whom?” he asks dumbly.

“Thor.” Is your curt reply. You look away from both men. “I do not wish to cause problems. I am here for as long as Thor is needed else where. This was not a choice given to me. I will keep to myself for the duration of my stay. I will only surface if I am needed.” 

Steve sighs. “There’s no need for that, doll. You’re always welcome here.” 

You let out a tinkling laugh, devoid of humor. “You always were a terrible liar, Steve.” You turn toward Bucky, taking two steps toward him, standing so close to him you can see the flecks of silver in his eyes. “I will not interfere with your budding relationship, sergeant. I am not here to ah... how did you put it? Fuck things up. I am merely here to do my duty as the Consort to the future King. You have nothing to fear from me.” 

“Stay out of my head!” he roars, eyes flashing dangerously, his fists clenching at his sides. 

You snort at this obvious display of intimidation which throws him off balance, not used to being brushed off. “You forget yourself, James Barnes,” you say as your wings unfurl, stretching out behind you. The white dress morphs to one of pure darkness, jewels turning to midnight. 

Steve takes a step back, panic pouring off him in waves. 

Bucky doesn't budge. Instead he growls low in his throat as your eyes flash back, dark tendrils swirling around you as your souls recognise each other once more.

“You may wish to ignore what and who you are, James,” voice hollow, it resounds off the walls as you speak. “But I have accepted myself. The love I bear you will not save you if you attempt to harm me.”

Shock. The emotion you were least expecting from him sees his eyes grow comically wide at your words. He opens his mouth to retort but words fail him. 

Setting yourself down on the floor, your appearance returns to normal. You clear your throat, sighing out loud. “I will not pretend to know why you thought that I would mourn you for the rest of my days, James. Perhaps it is due to your ego? Did it please you to think you had a Goddess pining for you for all eternity?” You snort at the mortification on his face. “You have moved on from me. I did not descend from the heavens in an attempt to smite your new love. I expect the same courtesy from you.”

He contemplates your words carefully, his face showing no emotion. 

You feel as if the universe is holding its breath in anticipation of his coming verdict. 

“Fine,” he bites out. “Stay outta my head.”

You bite your lip. “I… I cannot.” 

His head snaps up, searching your face for the lie. “Explain!” he demands. 

You sigh. “I have had a rather trying day. I would greatly appreciate if you would leave me be, James. I do not want to be here anymore than you want me to be. I wish to go home. To my books and Loki, and yet here I am, forced to look upon the one who nearly killed me.”

“What?” he says stupidly. 

You laugh out loud. “It is fitting, then. You know not what your rejection caused. What our relationship created. Thor never bothered to inform you of the bond. How typical of him, my great lumbering, soft hearted fiancé. Odin was correct. He lacks sense,” you quip affectionately. 

Grabbing you by the arms, he forces you to look at him “What did ya mean, kill ya?” he growls.

You smile numbly at him. “It is of no concern to you, Sergeant. It is done, there is no changing it now. Odin has set in motion events which not even the Fates have control over. Rest easily, dear one. The torment in your mind will not last much longer. Your courtship will stay intact. I will not interfere in your life,” you say more gently, divesting yourself of his hold and walking away, hoping they had kept your old room intact. 

Striding down the hallway, you know you were not leaving these walls alive. 

Odin had sent you here for one purpose, to break the soul bond, a process which had killed more deities than you cared to count. Few survived the pain of it. 

You had lost a son to the process many millennia before. If Erebus had not been with you, you would have plunged the world into darkness.

Quelling the dread inside you, you resign yourself to the crushing realization you would soon join the ranks of those forgotten. Dying painfully and alone, a little more each day as the one you love resided mere feet from you. You would spend your last days remembering the joys of the past. You would not die bitter and afraid, but would hold onto the family lost to you, the husband ripped from you. You snort. 

The living reincarnation of him was down the hall. How easy it would be to recapture love lost, but you’d made him a vow. No interference. 

Cursing your naivety, you fling open the bedroom door only to slam it behind you. Plopping down on the bed and closing your eyes, you give yourself to Morpheus, dreaming of a time of love and laughter.


	4. The Morning After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Everyone!
> 
> I am currently in the tick of writing this fic, i will endeavor to update with three chapters every Sunday, If you cant wait that long you can have a look at my Tumblr @this-kitty-has-claws 
> 
> My masterlist is updated almost daily so you should be able to find all the latest chapters there. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

You had woken out of sorts, the previous evening's altercation running circles in your mind. Sighing heavily, you move out of bed, the pretty peach train of your sleep attire swirling at your feet. Moving to the nightstand you pick up the pearl inlayed hairbrush that Loki had gifted you for Yule and pull it through the long, dark silky tresses that seem to flow like water as you move. 

Plopping yourself onto the divan situated in front of the window overlooking the grounds, you snap your fingers, materializing a cup of coffee. Holding the steaming cup in your hands, taking delicate sips as the beverage cools, you let your mind work through your current situation. 

I’m in trouble, you muse. You had hoped after all these years your emotional reaction to Bucky would have dwindled. Yet you still yearned to hold him, to be near him. It was a problem. A problem you were going to have to deal with. Perhaps you could convince Bucky to start over. 

Snorting into the quiet bedroom, the notion of Bucky Barnes bending to someone else's will was a concept so far out of the realm of possibility it was ridiculous.

Resigning yourself to the fact that your stay would be awkward and unpleasant, it was going to be hell, you could feel the deep ache of the soul bond settling in your bones, pulling at the very fiber of your essence, taxing the grace you held. It was steadily creeping up on you. The pain of separation, the pain you had staved off for six long years. The soul bond frayed with each of Bucky’s refusals. 

It was a lot you had to accept.

A quiet knock on the door startles you out of your reverie, mumbling an “enter”, expecting Steve or Wanda, you are pleasantly surprised to find Bucky standing awkwardly in the center of your bedroom. 

“Can we talk?” he asks, his deep voice washing over you, soothing your heart. 

You gesture to the opposite couch, turning to face him.

“I’m sorry for how I acted last night. I wasn’t expectin’ to see ya again.” He doesn't look you in the eye, his gaze trained firmly on his boots, his hands balled tightly into fists on his lap. His shoulder length chocolate hair obscures his face, while the hard set of his jaw gives away his distress. 

“You must calm yourself, James,” you reply gently, not daring to approach him. “You are causing yourself undue distress. I am not angry with you.”

He still doesn't look up, jaw ticking as he struggles to keep his composure. 

Sighing inwardly, you close the gap between you, running your hand through his hair the same way you had done what felt like a million times. 

His shoulders relax minutely. 

“Bucky,” you whisper, tipping his chin up to look at you. 

His eyes are red rimmed, dark circles under them. 

It sends a sharp pain through your chest. Sinking to your knees, you take his hands in yours, shame and guilt gnawing at your insides. “I cannot express how sorry I am. I did not wish this. I do not want to be here. Seeing you in pain is the worst punishment anyone could bestow upon me.” Bringing his hand to your lips, you place a chaste kiss to his knuckles. “I know my presence is undesired. I will return to Asgard as soon as I am able.” 

He lets out a humorless laugh, his lips curling back into a snarl. “I don’ know what’s worse, havin’ ya back here, or watchin’ ya leave again.” Shaking his head, he stands up, leaving you kneeling on the floor. “Why?” he asks, “Why did it hafta be you? They couldn’ have sent someone else? I was jus’ startin’ to feel...normal again.” He turns to face you. “You left without a word. Stevie had ta tell me you were gone. I screamed at the sky for hours! I couldn’ figure out why ya left. It was no worse than any other fight we’d had.” 

“Do you remember what you said to me that night, James?” you ask, taking a deep breath as the hateful words he spewed raging through you.

“Sometimes I wanna wake up and not remember anything about you,” he mutters, his eyes clenching shut as he speaks the words, realization dawning on him.

You nod, rising from the floor. “The mind replays what the heart cannot delete. Those words are what spurred me into leaving. I could not bear to watch as I destroyed you further. I had done enough damage.” Standing in front of him, eyes locked on his, you feel the ache well up, nearly choke you it is so strong. “I could take it no longer, watching as you blamed me for what I had shown you, what you were. How it consumed you, how the love in your eyes turned to hate.”

“I love you.” He clears his throat. “I loved you. You broke what little I had left. I don’ know if I can handle you being here,” he finishes lamely, the sharp sting of his words burning a path through your already shattered heart. He loved you. Loved. Past tense...

“It shouldn't bother me, but it does. I shouldn't care about you, but I do,” he sighs. “I should hate you... but I don't.” 

You will back the tears threatening to fall, gazing at him with wide eyes. “James, I am sorry.” The words coming out breathy and broken. 

His features soften, he cards a hand into your locks, tugging gently at the ends. “I can't say I forgive ya right off the bat, (Y/N), but... I’m gonna try. I wanna try to be a friend, but I need ta move on from ya. I know that's not what ya wanna hear, but I can't be with ya again. Can we try something new? Be friends at least?”

You study him quietly. There was no harm in trying. You would not survive the breaking of the soul bond, but you could at least try and provide him peace before you departed the realm of the living. “Yes, of course. Friends it is.” You smile warmly, ignoring the sound of your last hope shattering at your feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback and Constructive criticism is welcomed!


	5. Bucky

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky tries to face the aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Loves,
> 
> Thank you for all the Kudos and lovely comments, i appreciate them!

Bucky’s POV:

He slips out of the bedroom, keeping tight control over his emotions, the only thing betraying him is the whirring of his metal arm. He can feel a scream clawing its way up his throat. He couldn't bear it, couldn't stand looking at your face. 

Your darkness lures him in, your voice washing over him like a gentle wave. 

Striding purposefully toward the gym, he ignores the calls of fellow agents, he needed to release this frustration. He needed to forget how vulnerable you looked standing in front of him, your eyes begging him to reconsider. How he wished he could. He’d had a long time to stew over your sudden disappearance. The ache you left in his soul had been excruciating when you’d left. Now you’d returned, only to be engaged to fucking Thor.

He needed to punch something. 

He had no right to feel the way he did. He had moved on himself to a sweet,uncomplicated woman who ran a bookshop. 

Rayne was light and laughter in his dark world, whereas Nyx was darkness and allure, temptation and lust, fiery passion and wrath compressed into a woman whose beauty was documented in mythology. 

Your presence was like a drug, casting a spell on all who knew you. Unbelievably you’d had chosen him, and he was thoroughly fucked because of it. 

Stripping off his red henley, he lets fly at the punching bag, every punch emphasised by a grunt.

What the hell was he thinking asking you to be friends?

Fuck knows it had started out that way all those years ago, innocent touches and sweet smiles. Before he knew it he was spread out underneath you, wondering how the hell he managed to get that lucky. He been drunk on you, spilling out all his darkest secrets, seeking your comfort when he couldn't cope with the nightmares, needing your touch, craving it. 

You understood. Not in your head, but in your heart exactly what he had been through, suffering many of the same PTSD symptoms he displayed. 

Soon he needed you more than he did Steve. Soon he was so far gone on you no one else mattered. 

You made him feel strong, whole, like a man and not the monster Hydra made him. You were unafraid. You wielded darkness with little effort. What did you have to fear from a man like him? 

A particularly hard punch split the bag in two. He stares dumbly at the remnants for a what feels like an eternity before he gives up and sprawls himself out on a training mat. 

It wasn't long before he asked you to unlock his mind. He trusted you implicitly with everything. He knew you wouldn't slink or shy away from him as you’d already seen worse. 

You had held him tightly in your arms as he tried to formulate the words to ask, stroking gently through his hair as you often did when he felt on the edge of a meltdown. Without uttering a word you’d understood what he was asking. The fear flashing briefly in your eyes as you asked him if he was sure had been a little disconcerting but he’d wanted to know. Now, he wished he hadn't said yes. 

Because the memories came. 

Not just the deeply buried memories Hydra had taken from him, but the memories from before. Memories of the man or God he had been before Zeus had cursed him. Memories of a wife and children, of love and laughter, and he felt the walls crumble, the very foundation of who he thought he was, was stripped away. He wasn't just Bucky Barnes, Sergeant in the 107th and former Winter Soldier. No, he was Erebus, primordial God of Darkness, husband to Nyx, Goddess of the Night. 

And he lost his shit. Not his finest moment. He could admit that now. 

The look of abject horror on your face as he accused you of messing with his head still made his heart clench. 

It went steadily downhill from there. He would snap more, seek Steve and Natalia out before he would come to you. He would sling hateful words your way, and you would never fight back. 

The light in your eyes kept dimming with every word out of his idiot mouth. 

Now here he sits, James Buchanan Barnes, colossal ass hat and lifetime award winner for biggest douche, still not able to get over what had happened six long years ago. 

You had left and taken his heart with him because of the pain he caused. You weren't the same anymore, some of that fire had gone from you, reminding him of the days after they had found you at the Hydra base. 

 

He’d be lying if he said he didn't want you still. That he didn’t love you still. It was a feeling which ran over his skin and set his nerves on fire. Something he didn't have with Rayne, and it made him angry.

He would not let you back in. He would keep you locked out, at arm's length, no matter how badly it made his stomach churn and skin crawl. He desperately needed to be close to you, it was a pull he couldn't shake, a feeling so painful, so joyful, so consuming it left him breathless.   
But he was nothing if not stubborn. He would wait you out. He wouldn't fold. 

You weren't going to be here that long before Thor came to claim what was his. 

He could be patient. He could live with it, the knowledge you were going to leave to marry another man. He would accept it. 

It made bile rise in his throat and his vision tinge with red, but he would accept it.


	6. Loki comes to visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

“Friends? Truly? I know you’re old, sister, but I did not take you for senile,” Loki’s voice comes from behind you making you gasp and jump. 

You whirl to face him, hand over your heart as you struggle to keep your fright under wraps. “Brother? What in Valhalla's name are you doing here?” you half yell, half whispered. The ache in your bones intensifying with the sudden movement. 

Loki notices your discomfort and frowns, eyes roaming over your barely clad body in search of the cause. “What ails you?” he demands, as he pushes the gown off your shoulders, running hands over the exposed skin, magic lighting up his hands as he does so. He growls low in his throat and removes his hands, staring at you in disbelief and anger as you hastily try and right your clothing, avoiding his gaze. “Your grace is fading. You are dying. Is it that Midgardian? I will tear him limb from limb!” he says as he moves with frightening speed. 

“Loki! No!” you yell as he flies from the room in search of Bucky, not having to go far. 

Bucky is striding up the hallway with Steve in tow when he comes face to face with an irate Loki, who promptly uses his staff to pin Bucky to a wall. 

“What have you done to her?” he snarls in his face, the hate in his eyes scares you. “I demand answers, human!” 

Bucky merely stares, Steve is fixing to swing when you intervene

“Brother, please! They have done me no harm, release him,” you plead, placing a hand on his shoulder, distinctly aware of the your state of undress. The sheer material is practically see through under the lights. 

Loki doesn't even glance at you, choosing instead to move closer to Bucky. “Do not lie to me, Nyx! You are fading, and he is the cause. He will be your death!” he spits. 

Bucky's eyes go wide, snapping to yours the question clear in them. 

“Loki, you are over reacting. Do not make me harm you,” your voice is quiet, but firm, harboring no room for argument. 

Loki, however doesn't budge

“Best do as she says, pal. I don’ wanna be on the receiving end of a thrashing from that dame,” Bucky says. How he manages to stay so calm whilst facing an irate God is beyond you. The man has balls of steel. 

“Brooir.” Brother. The word seems to hang in the air, between you before Loki releases Bucky. 

When he turns to face you, dread and anger intertwine. “If you stay here, you will perish. Come home,” he says, the concern on his face nearly makes you cave. 

“I cannot. This was the agreement I entered into. I will either live through the unbinding or die. They need not know the details. It is not their concern,” you remind him gently, which was apparently the wrong thing to do.

“Not their concern? Have you lost your mind? The one thing standing between you and death is your will which will crumble as the pain takes hold of you! You know not what you do!” he yells.

“What the fuck is happening?” comes the angry voice of Bucky

“You have not told him? He could save you! Foolish woman!” he roars, advancing on you, grabbing you roughly by the arms. “I beg of you! Tell him, save yourself! Do not do this to me,” his voice is barely above a whisper, eyes pleading with you, begging you not to leave him. 

“I am sorry, brother. I cannot. You know not what you ask of me.” Willing him to understand, you fight back tears. You could not force Bucky to save the soul bond. It would taint it, morph it into something ugly and vile.

“I will not stand by and watch you kill yourself!” he growls. Releasing you, he disappears suddenly, leaving you standing half naked and crying with a very confused Steve and an angry Bucky.

“Best start explaining, Nyx. What’s he talkin about?” Bucky asks “How am I gonna kill ya? You’re a Goddess! That ain't even possible?” 

“Loki merely has a penchant for the dramatic. All is well, the trip to Midgard was draining. Nothing more,” you reply coolly, willing them to believe you.

They don't.

“Please, doll, tell us. Maybe we can help?” the gentle voice of Steve is like a balm on a wound.

“There is nothing to tell, Steven,” is your firm reply. 

Bucky snaps in that moment, stalking toward you, murder clearly written on his face. “You will tell me what the fuck is going on, (Y/N) or so help me I'm gonna do somethin we will both regret,” he warns, standing so close to you, you can feel the warmth radiating off his bare chest. 

Your breathing picks up, harsh shallow breaths, cheeks flushing as you stare up at his towering frame. 

His pupils dilate, lips curling back ever so slightly as the inevitable darkness settles between you, pulling you closer together. 

It sets your skin on fire, fingers itching to trace the muscles on his torso. “James..please,” you whisper. “Do not make me do this.” 

He takes a step closer, rising to his full height, trying his best to make you submit, to bend to his will. He should know better. 

Gathering all the willpower you have, you take a step back, putting much needed distance between the two of you. “You cannot intimidate me into divulging something I do not wish to tell you!” you spit. Turning on your heel, you enter your bedroom, slamming the door behind you. Three steps from the door, you fall to the floor, ignoring the pounding and yelling coming from the hall. Your eyes lock on a tiny vial with pure gold liquid inside it. 

Loki always was a softie at heart.


	7. Movie night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

You weren't one to become angry. You never let your temper flare, opting instead to walk away from the situation until emotions had cooled, and you were able to discuss things calmly. But now, you were seething, anger simmering underneath the surface with every touch that... that harlot gave Bucky. 

Rayne was her name, and she was gorgeous. Vibrant green eyes, framed by long dark lashes, creamy unblemished skin with the reddest lips you had ever seen, crowned with a glorious mane of deep red hair, slim and fit. She exuded a quiet grace that made you want to claw her eyes out, rather unbecoming of a princess. 

You hated everything about her.

But you had no way out available to you. Forced to suffer through Movie Night, the entire Avengers team congregating in one place, complete with snacks and bickering. It was a nightmare, you would take the torture Hydra had put you through over this any day. 

Whether Tony senses your distress or merely wished to annoy Bucky, he plops down beside you, a wicked grin on his face. “So you and the space puppy, huh?” he says as the room goes eerily silent, all eyes trained on you. 

Bucky’s head whips around so fast you’re afraid it might come off. 

“Thor and I are betrothed, yes,” you reply as Tony’s smile grows wider. 

He wiggles his eyebrows, and you dread the next question. “How’d that happen? One too many after a feast had you doing the nasty?” 

“Tony!” Steve admonishes as Natasha and Wanda fall into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s expression morphs into a dark scowl, Rayne looking more and more distressed by his behaviour. 

“Not quite,” you reply “It was arranged by Odin. Thor and I had little say in the matter, although I had been led to believe Thor was not opposed to it.” 

Tony seems momentarily lost for words, mouth agape as he processes the new information. 

“You were forced?” Bucky asks quietly, barely controlled rage leaking into his voice.

Rayne’s eyes widen at his demeanour. 

You sigh, leveling him with a neutral stare “I was not forced. I was given a choice. I took the option which suited me best.” 

“So marryin’ a man you couldn't love was the best choice?” he counters. 

Thoroughly fed up with the turn in conversation, you grip the edge of the chair tightly. “Unlike you, Sergeant, I do not have the luxury of marrying or being with someone Ii love. I am feared, an outcast, the one home I had was ripped away from me six years ago. I am doing the best I can to create a new life for myself as the old one was snatched away rather cruelly, don't you think?” 

“Am I missing something, Buck?” Rayne’s quiet voice piping up for the first time. 

He ignores her. “No one made you leave, Nyx. That was your choice!” he retorts. As he gets to his feet, you rise to yours, never one to back down from a challenge. 

“You did, James! As I recall, you wished me gone. Who was I to deny you?” you spit. 

He growls, stepping closer to you, chests touching. “I never said that! I never once said I didn't want ya here! That I didn't need ya here! That I wanted ya gone!” he yells, chest heaving with the force of his anger.

“Really? The only time you ever graced me with your presence was in the middle of the night!” you yell back, fists clenched tightly at your sides.

“Don’t say it, Nyx,” Natasha warns from behind you, but you were too far gone, too lost in your anger and pain to heed her warning. 

“In those dark nights, when those you had replaced me with could offer you no comfort, could not soothe your mind, could not silence the screams,” Bucky’s eyes are wide, shock clear in them as your innermost thoughts spill out, “In those dark nights when you would climb into my bed and seek comfort in my body, only to slink away before I would wake!” you can feel the tears streaking down your face, no longer in control of any of your emotions. “You who professed to love me! You destroyed me! I was left with nothing,” you hiss, “Nothing but the clear understanding I was merely your whore and everything we had shared was naught but lies!” 

Bucky is silent, face devoid of all emotion. “That’s what ya think? That you meant that little to me? That I only wanted to sleep with ya?” he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I told ya everythin’, all of it, you meant the world ta me. I was shattered when you left,” he whispers. The truth in his words not making it past the hurt built up inside. “I came ta ya at night because I needed ya. I didn't know how ta make things right. I ain't good with words,” he finishes, wiping a stray tear from your cheek, the action squeezing your heart. “Now you’re back, engaged. To a friend no less, and I’m…” he trails off, clenching his jaw, words seem to escape him before he lifts a cold stare toward you “And I'm no longer interested in what you're offering.” 

You swallow thickly against the lump in your throat, nodding your head in understanding. “Worry not, Sergeant Barnes. With Thor at least I do not have to worry about waking alone and finding money on the dresser.” Excusing yourself from the room, you run into the dark night to scream your pain at the sky.


	8. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

You had been running for what felt like hours. Bits of twig and leaves stuck in the rats nest which was currently your hair. Your bare feet were caked with mud, rips in your dress appeared from where the branches of trees had caught the delicate fabric. You would run forever if you had your way, but a particularly thick tree root thwarts your plan sending you careening down a sharp hill.

You fall for hours, minutes, seconds. It makes no difference as you reach the bottom, bruised and humiliated. Low whimpers leave you as the fight with Bucky replays on endless loop in your head. Years of self loathing rushed out before your brain could interject, and you knew there was no taking it back. It was a lost cause, the crushing realization the love you and Bucky held for each other could not be salvaged, too much had happened, so many hurtful words spewed in the heat of the moment. There was no coming back from this, no fixing it. 

He had offered you an olive branch, a way to be close to him, but you had let petty jealousy take hold of you. 

You had broken it this time. You had destroyed what was left of your crumbling relationship.

Resigning yourself to your fate, you make no effort to get up, laying in the dust, crying at the sky, a luxury which had not been afforded you in years. 

Asgard was filled to the brim with propriety and bottled emotions. 

You wish you were there beside Loki with his books, making playful jabs, and teaching you magic. With gentle Freya, so patient and welcoming. Boisterous Thor, never failing to bring a smile to your face.

If only you had never met him. James Buchanan Barnes.

If only it wasn't raining. The heavens open in a hail of water. Lightning cracks in the sky, great thundering flashes of light which blind you. It soaks you through in seconds, dress clinging uncomfortably to your frame, wet hair plastered to your face. It makes you cry harder, sobs wracking you, you barely register the looming figure above you. 

Thor. 

“Oh, my lady, what has this world done to you?” he says, scooping you up in his arms, cradling you tightly to his warm chest. “You are shivering, my lady. Let us get you to warmth,” he murmurs as he thrusts Mjolnir into the sky, lifting you both off the ground as he flies toward the compound with a speed that sees you slightly nauseous.

He lands lightly, readjusting you slightly as he storms into the compound, coming face to face with a team of irate Avengers. They go silent as they take in a rain soaked Thor who is clearly not happy. 

“Who has done this? Who has harmed her?” he demands. When he receives no reply, he turns his back, striding from the room. “I will deal with you lot later!” are his parting words. He beelines straight for your bedroom, kicking the door open. 

Setting you gently on your feet, you stand shakily, drops of water dripping onto the carpeted floor. 

“Nyx, you must stop this.” Thor finally speaks, his stormy gaze sending a shiver up your spine. “I will not watch as you kill yourself. You have no regard left for your life!” he rants, stopping short as he sees the vial of gold liquid on your dresser. “How did you come by this?” Thor murmurs, whirling to face you, awe written on his face. 

“Loki gifted it to me,” is your dead reply. 

Thor sucks in a breath, eyes widening as he inspects the bottle. “This is Ausadhirdipyamanas and Verbena, a healing potion I thought extinct!” he says, the gold liquid swishing merrily in its vile “You have not taken it,” he states, anger replacing reverence. “Nyx I do not understand why you torture yourself! The potion will mask the pain! Prolong your life!” he roars, desperation plain on his face. 

“I do not wish to prolong my life,” you reply, sitting down heavily on the bed, ignoring the wetness of your garments. “I cannot take this torment any longer. I want it to be over, Thor,” you reply quietly, ignoring the pain on his face, too caught up in your own as the pain seems to set you on fire from the inside. The helplessness and hopelessness consuming you. You want it to stop. You can't bear another second of it.

“No,” is his answer. It's a quiet declaration, one not customary of Thor. 

It gives you pause. 

“I will not let you do this,” he says as he strides toward you. Kneeling before you, his head bowed, eyes downcast, you know Odin would skin him alive if he saw his son kneeling before one who was not his equal. Yet. “Do not make me watch as you die, Nyx, please!” he pleads, holding the vial in his open palm, offering it to you. “I have stood silently all these years, watching you pine for someone who could not see you,” he says, eyes finally meeting yours. “I see you, Nyx, not your power, not your beauty. I see you. All of you, I will not lose you now, not when you are so close to being mine. I would not survive the loss.” He takes your hand and closes it around the vial, silently begging you to drink it, to save yourself. 

Nodding slightly, you unplug the small bottle, tilting its contents into your mouth. The sweet liquid coats your throat, leaving a pleasantly warm feeling in your veins. 

Thor stands, bringing you with him. He gently cups your face in his hands, bringing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, so gentle, so sweet, such tenderness you had not experienced in years. 

It brings a fresh wave of tears, the saltiness of it mingling with the taste of his lips. 

He pulls away, fingers wiping away the tears running down your face. “Let me soothe you, my lady,” he murmurs against your lips, hands already pushing at the rain soaked dress. 

All you can do is nod weakly as Thor invades your senses, his eyes dark with hidden desire. 

“I will take care of you, Minn Drottning.” 

My queen the word whispers in your mind as your tattered dress hits the floor, leaving you in nothing but jewels.


	9. The confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alrighty, Here's an update to tie you over, im not 100% sure ill have 10 and 11 up tomorrow (I am currently neck deep in editing and betaing) but they will be up latest on Monday. 
> 
> Happy Reading!

To your surprise Thor does not attempt to ravish you, instead he waves a hand, magic leaking from his fingers. Your appearance is righted instantly, twigs and mud gone from you. 

He pulls a warm night dress over your head, gently unclasping the jewellery adorning your neck, placing it on the dresser. He leads you toward the bed, changing his own clothing as he goes, placing himself behind you and pulling you to his chest. “I wish for you to tell me everything” he requests gently. 

You consider it for a moment. You had never told the entire story, it had been lost to myth and legend. Perhaps it was time. Perhaps it would soothe the ache in your heart. “My son, Hypnos, was manipulated into assisting Hera.” Taking a steadying breath, the memories almost acrid in your mind fight to the surface from where you’d buried them. “Hera requested that Hypnos put Zeus to sleep so that she might interfere with Hercules's trials. She succeeded. When Zeus awoke, he was livid, chased my son across the skies, attempting to smite him, until Erebus and I intervened. He was no match for the both of us. Instead, Zeus swore revenge.” 

Thor is uncharacteristically silent, but you could feel the tension in his large body. 

“Zeus started by murdering Lepida, Hypnos’s human soul bonded. He perished shortly after, and the god turned his attention to myself and Erebus. He lured us to Olympus, claiming that Hemera, my daughter, had fallen ill. When we arrived, we found our fourteen remaining children bound by magic, and the entire population of Olympus standing to attention. We were forced to our knees, made to watch as Zeus slaughtered our family.” Screwing your eyes tightly against the memories, the blood, the pain, you force yourself to continue. 

“Zeus then turned to Erebus, who demanded that Zeus fight him as a man, as honour demanded. Zeus merely laughed, shredding Erebus’s wings, and ripped his soul from his body, forcing him to fall. I had assumed he had been returned to Chaos, clearly I was mistaken. I do not know what happened next. I remember excruciating pain, the feeling of falling, and then warmth. I was reborn nine months later to Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker and his wife, a Noble Prussian, who was credited with the creation of Hydra.” 

Thor seems dumbstruck, his hands tightening protectively around your waist. 

“I do not know how he knew that I was different, it matters not, when I reached the age of four he began training me. Hand to hand combat, weapons training. He attempted to warp my mind. However, I remembered before, my memories still intact.” Sighing heavily, you rub at your eyes as wave after wave of torture filtered through your head. “As I grew, I began to question… everything, so the Baron sent me to Elisa Sinclair, Madame of Hydra. She was to launch one last attempt to get me under control. She failed, and that is when the torture started. They placed in me in the chair, tried to scramble my mind, but i was somehow immune, they cut into my flesh, flayed the skin off my bones as i screamed for Erebus. The drugs they developed to keep me pliant restricting me from fighting back. I was kept weak and near starved, attempts to extract my grace failing.”

“Nyx… you do not have to continue.” Thor’s guilt is so thick you can feel it wrapping around your spine. 

You shake your head. You needed to get this out. “That is when I met him. Bucky. They would send him to me, to break me. Strangely, he could never harm me no matter how badly he was beaten after. It took me years to understand why.One evening they sent him to me. He was full of rage, a wild animal, mumbling about a man on a bridge. I knew not how to soothe him. He pinned me against a wall, screaming for answers, his eyes flashing black. I kissed him.” You snort at the absurdity of it. “He kissed back and in a tangle of limbs and violence, I gave him the only comfort I could offer him. My body. They continued to send him to me afterward if he stepped out of line. I was the only one who could ground him. He escaped three years later. I was left alone again. Torture and pain filled my days, my mind slowly crumbling under the weight of it, until Steve found me and brought me back here where I was reunited with Bucky.

He remembered me. The joy of it was overwhelming. He took it upon himself to take care of me, as I once took care of him. It was wonderful. Such joy I had not known in my life. He was my anchor, my sanity. We fell into a relationship quickly.” You start to cry in earnest, love and pain mingle into a feeling so strong you can't contain it. 

Thor pulls you closer to him, wrapping you protectively in his embrace, offering soft words of comfort, stroking your hair gently as you turn and bury your face in his chest. “That is enough for tonight, Nyx. Sleep now. Tomorrow will bring brighter days, minn drottning,” he says gently, rocking you slightly as you cry out your pain onto his chest. “I am here, my love. No one will harm you,” he murmurs, as your sobs subside and you go limp in his arms, hiccuping slightly as the potion you drank lulls you into a dreamless sleep nestled tightly in the arms of the thunder god.


	10. Giving in

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: Nyx was an ancient deity usually envisaged as the very substance of the night–a veil of dark mists drawn across the sky to obscure the light of Aither, the shining blue of the heavens. Her opposite number was Hemera (Day) who scattered the mists of night at dawn. she was doomed to walk the earth in search of her consort Erebus.
> 
> Warnings: My usual. Angst, Violence And Smut
> 
> Pairings: Bucky X Reader, Avengers x Reader

You wake slowly, drifting gently between wakefulness and sleep. The warm body pressed against you stirring long dormant desire, a feeling you haven't experienced in years. You had not been touched intimately in six years, Bucky being the last man to grace your bed. 

You turn to face Thor who's sleeping peacefully beside you. His blond locks falling into his face, snoring lightly, his handsome features are slack, giving him a youthful countenance. Deciding to be bold, to move on from Bucky, to try and forge yourself a new path, you place your lips on Thor's cupping his face gently. 

It takes him a few minutes to respond, but when he does it's sensual, slow, his hand skimming lightly up your side dragging the material of your night attire with it as his hand moves up, fingertips barely grazing your flesh. He breaks the kiss turning his darkening gaze to yours, questioning whether you really want this, whether you are truly ready to give yourself to him. Varying emotions filter across his face, he doesn’t say a word, merely waits for you to make the first move. 

“Please,” you whisper. 

He rolls you onto your back, hiking your night dress over your head as he goes, leaving you in nothing but panties. He hovers over you, eyes roaming your body hungrily making you feel hot and cold at the same time. His gaze softens as his eyes land on your nervous ones. Leaning in close, he trails a single finger up your stomach, tracing the taut muscles of your abdomen. “All will be well, Nyx. Stop me if it is too much,” he says as he captures your lips in a passionate kiss which morphs quickly into sensual dance, nipping and biting, lazy strokes of his tongue against yours. 

He peppers kisses long your jaw, moving to your neck where he bites down gently on the pleasure point, drawing a gasp from you. His hands grow bolder the more responsive you become. He cups your breast gently, causing you to buck your hips upward, rubbing your lace covered core against the bulge in his pants. He moans at the contact, keeping still, letting you have your fun before he kisses down the valley of your breasts, nipping as he goes, stopping only when he reaches your clothed core. His breathing is harsh as he takes in your squirming form. 

“You are beautiful, my lady,” he whispers, nuzzling his nose against your clit, sending a spike of desire through you, “and you are mine,” he says as he drags the final garment down your legs discarding it quickly on the floor. 

He moves to capture your clit in his mouth, but you stop him with a, “Wait.” 

Stopping immediately, he removes himself from you to sit on the edge of the bed, his erection straining against his pajama pants.

“Thor, I’m not saying no. I wish to please you,” you say quietly, moving languidly across the bed. Straddling his thighs, grinding down lightly on his throbbing dick, you run your hands up his body, over his shoulders, tangling your fingers in his hair, watching as the rejection leaves his eyes and excitement renews. 

“I am yours to command, my queen,” he replies grabbing your hips and rocking against you. “Do with me what you will.”

You smile wickedly, unleashing a wave of power which has Thor firmly tied to the bed. 

He raises an eyebrow in question. 

“Do you trust me?” you ask. 

He nods his head once. “You are my queen, Nyx, your desires are my desires. I will sit for your pleasure, my lady.” 

You need no more permission, his words sending wetness running down your thighs as you rid him of his pants, freeing his thick cock from its prison causing him to gasp at the sudden freedom. The way it falls heavily against his abdomen, the thickness, the weight, the length, leaves you a little lightheaded. Running your hand up his inner thighs has his hips lifting from the bed, lightning cracking in the distance followed by a slight rumbling which has you smiling. You take him in hand, caressing the softness of his skin, feeling the weight as you slide your thumb over his tip. Leaning forward, watching him watching you, you place a gentle kiss to the tip, catching the pearly drop of moisture on your bottom lip. Darting your tongue out, you moan at his flavor, a growl of appreciation comes from Thor. Moving to cup his balls in your hand, you fondle him, lightly tugging his sack. “Are you going to moan for me, my king?” you tease. 

He groans as you engulf him entirely, one hand pressing into his lower abdomen while they other circles the base of his cock as you maneuver him down your throat. Swallowing rhythmically around him, massaging the underside of his shaft with your tongue, you relish the way his body heaves and writhes, his pleasure so apparent it fills you with feminine power at bringing the mighty Thor to such a state. The salty sweet taste of him sends a second surge of wetness down your thighs and you moan lewdly, an action which makes Thor throw his head back and curse, trying desperately to buck his hips into your warm mouth. Your hand pins him down as you work him over, his moaning growing louder as you bring him closer to release, the lightning outside your window cracking violently as you turn the God in your bed into a sobbing mess. 

“Nyx... I'm going to,” he gasps, then groans in frustration when you deny him his ability to finish. 

Snaking up his body, laving your tongue over his cut abdominals, bulging pecs, and pert nipples, you purr wickedly, “You may come when I do.” Straddling his hips, you settle your wet core on his throbbing erection, glide your hips back, bathe him in moist heat. 

“Let me taste you, please,” he pleads, voice rasping and deep, eyes wild with lust. 

You smile as you observe him laid out before you, contemplating his request. 

Arms outstretched, wrists confined, hair a mass of gold now tangled and sweaty with his writhing. His arms flex, muscles straining, but he will not be leaving his bonds until you wish it. Lush lips, swollen and red from his teeth in them, are moistened by his tongue, and your decision is an easy one. 

Kissing him at the hollow of his throat, you lick a path up his throat, nip his chin, kiss his lips, pulling away before he can take over. You shimmy your hips up, place your knees to either side of his head. Carding your fingers through his hair, you hover above him. 

Releasing his hands, he wastes no time in dragging your core down to his lips, licking, sipping, tasting you at a pace which leaves you breathless. Gripping the headboard, you cry out as he sucks your clit into his mouth. The sky turns pitch black, stars twinkle brightly as lightning provides cover for your screams. His hands tighten on your ass, there will be bruise, you are certain but in that moment, when his tongue his thrusting rhythmically into you it was hard to care. Grinding down on his face, you cry out when he sweeps his tongue up, drags it over your swollen bundle of nerves. Thighs quaking, body convulsing, you come undone, screaming his name. 

Thor's hips thrust into the air, desperately searching for any sort of friction as he laps up your offering to the god who gave you such pleasure. The gentle lapping is soothing, keeps your waves rolling, until his lips close to suck on your clit again sending an electric shock straight to your core. 

With a wild yell, you yank him back by his hair, the overstimulation becoming unbearable.

Thor is groaning beneath you, his erection nearly painful, but his eyes are full of battle lust. He’s loving the fight, the way he’s made you scream, the fierce way he has to fight his own straining body. He’s a warrior god. Even in this he finds pleasure in the testing of his will power. 

Laughing softly, you move down his chest with the help of his greedy hands. “Sssh, love, I will take care of you,” you murmur, once again straddling his hips. Guiding him to your entrance, you sink down slowly. The prolonged moan he lets out, and the way his eyes never leave the spot where he is disappearing inside you, rekindles your own sparks of arousal. You don't stop until he is buried to the hilt, pausing only briefly to give yourself time to adjust to his girth. 

Thor, however, seems to have lost control of his senses. “Fuck!” he curses, sitting straight up. He grabs a fistfull of your dark locks, yanking your head back, latching his teeth into your shoulder with near bruising force. The other goes to the bed behind him, giving him leverage as he ruts into you fiercely, growling with every thrust, sending shocks of desire searing through you. 

You claw desperately at his back, only able to hold on as the room is plunged into darkness, all light going from the area. “Thor!” you scream as you come for the second time. 

The sound he makes as you milk him is one of pure wickedness, a laugh you’ve only ever heard come from Loki. Flipping you both over, he pins you to the mattress, holds you down as he fucks you ferociously through your orgasm. The mighty god is sheened with sweat, his body laboring over yours. His breathing stutters, hips lose their rhythm. The feeling of his cock swelling as he approaches his release is exquisite. 

A keening wail erupts from your throat as searing heat, a whip of lightning power slams through you, setting you reeling as another oragams steals your breath. 

Incapable of making a sound, so lost in his own pleasure, Thor throws his head back, the muscles of his neck straining as he cums silently, his lips drawn back in a snarl while thunder and lightning crack repeatedly around the building. Long hot spurts of his essence coats your inside, making you moan softly at the feeling.

Wrapped in your arms, he collapses on you, his body heavy but comforting in its weight. 

The weight, though pleasing... still feels wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Behold. Smut!


	11. The Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are heating up

You were cursing Tony’s need for extravagant parties as you stood in front of the full length mirror. You had been ripped rather unceremoniously from the warm cocoon you and Thor had created. While basking in the glow of spectacular sex and the potion Thor had forced you to drink, F.R.I.D.A.Y had informed you Tony had arranged an engagement party for yourself and Thor, and Natasha was waiting to doll you up. 

You hated him. 

“This dress has barely any material, Natalia!” you say, adjusting the length of the skirt. You were showing more flesh than you were comfortable with. 

Nat clicks her tongue, fussing with your hair. “Shush, you look gorgeous. Thor won't be able to keep his hands off you,” she giggles gleefully, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

Blushing furiously at the suggestive remark, you untangle yourself from her grip, plopping yourself on the bed “I do not think this is a good idea, Nat.” 

Sighing heavily, she sits down beside you, a rare moment of empathy gripping the red headed assassin. “You will have to move on eventually., The two of you are intolerable, no offence.” She smirks at your offended expression. “Tony only wants to bring the team together. Let him,” she says, inspecting her nails nonchalantly. “Besides, all of us are aware how... close you and Thor are after last night's debacle.” 

Eyes widening in horror, your mouth gapes with shock. “H-how?” you sputter. 

She lets out a loud laugh, eyeing you with something akin to pity. “Are you serious? You and Barnes went at it like deranged bunny rabbits. Everyone knows what it means when the world goes dark at ten in the morning, Nyx.” She smirks playfully. “The lightning was new though. Very pretty,” she adds as an afterthought.

“Oh no,” you moan dramatically, flinging yourself backward on the bed. 

Natasha huffs, a frown marring her otherwise perfect features. “Stop that!” she snaps as she hauls you upward. “You’ll ruin your hair. Come on, Nyx, it’s an engagement party, not a funeral. Suck it up!” 

Resigning yourself to your fate, you plaster on the fakest smile you can, rising to your feet and adjusting the length of the dress once more. “Very well. Let us feast,” you reply, bobbing a small curtsy as Nat giggles. 

She hooks her arm in yours, leading you from the bedroom, into the common area to await the arrival of the men. 

“Will Rayne be attending the festivities?” you ask, feigning an air of indifference as your heart threatens to jump out of your chest. 

“No,” she replies. 

You sag slightly with relief. It would have been nigh on impossible to survive another evening in her company. 

“Stop being so obvious, Nyx” she says, as the men enter the living room. 

Oh my… you think as your heart stutters in your chest, a red flush creeping up your neck as you take in Bucky’s appearance. 

His large frame is hugged tightly by a dark black, satin suit, tailored to perfection, outlining the bulging muscles in his arms, the line of his narrow waist, the thickness of his thighs. His dark locks are tied back in a low bun, a single piece of hair falling in his face. His oceanic blue eyes meet yours. 

It's as if time stands still. You see no one but each other, the air crackles with electricity, thick with words left unspoken. 

His gaze bores into yours. Accusing. Searching. Painful. The hurt and want you find there makes you grit your teeth as guilt rises inside you. 

You can't help but feel like you have betrayed him, like you have broken all that was left. 

He’s letting you see him, the hurt you caused, the pain he feels, the hopelessness and despair he carries with him. 

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but your apology is cut off by Thor. 

“You look ravishing, my lady,” he booms, a twinkle in his blue eyes as he takes you in, his appreciative gaze roaming your body freely. 

“As do you,” you reply, smiling softly at him. 

The blue of his suit brings out his eyes and hugs him nicely. He was truly handsome, but he did not set your heart aflutter as Bucky did, and you hated yourself for it. 

“Shall we go?” he murmurs in your ear, a cheeky smile on his face. “The sooner we leave, the sooner I can have you back in my bed, minn drottning.” 

The sharp intake of breath behind you causes your heart to sink as you realise Bucky overheard what Thor had so casually thrown out. 

Heart torn you smile warmly at Thor. “Of course,” you say, linking your arm with his as he leads you from the compound to the waiting limos. You feel a gentle caress of your hand, a piece of paper slipped discreetly into your palm as Bucky makes his way past you. You clutch at the paper tightly, willing yourself to look unaffected. 

Thor’s attention is caught briefly by Wanda, who looks stunning in a deep red gown, allowing you to quickly read the paper, your breathing picking up with every syllable written. 

Meet me on the roof at midnight it reads in Bucky's untidy script. 

You glance discreetly in his direction, his eyes meet yours briefly, he nods slightly before turning back to Natasha who is staring at him curiously. Bewildered and confused you slip into the limo, wondering exactly what this night will bring. 

*****  
Your feet are aching, the sky high heels Natasha had forced you into pinch your feet painfully. The sea of dancing bodies seems to blur together, the deep resounding base of the music pounding in your skull. You had never felt so utterly alone and out of place in your life. 

Thor had been commandeered by Rhodey and Steve who were having a drinking contest, the girls were flirting up a storm at the bar. 

You hadn't seen James in while, the former assassin disappearing as soon as he entered Stark Tower, presumably to do what he always did at these things. Lurk. 

He materialises out of nowhere, a single hand offered to you. 

Glancing in Thor’s direction, you take Bucky’s proffered hand. 

He helps you to your feet, leading you onto the dance floor. He hesitates briefly, before placing his hands on your waist, drawing you closer to him, moving you in time with the music. 

Your chest is flush with his, his scent overwhelming you completely. The feel of his hands on you makes your blood sing, while the soft tickle of his stubble against your cheek makes your heart flutter. 

He spins you, your back now solidly against his chest, working his hips in time with yours, an action which has you moaning “We need to talk,” he murmurs against your ear, his lips ghosting gently over the lobe. 

Goosebumps erupt over your skin. You arch minutely into him, seeking more contact, just a little more, but he moves away. Glancing over your shoulder at him, he taps his watch three times before disappearing into the crowd leaving you standing alone in the center of the dance floor. A feeling of dread and anticipation crawl its way up your spine. You glance at Thor again, making sure he is occupied before you follow Bucky’s path to the roof. 

Heels click quietly on the stone floors, you announce your presence to the man standing quietly on the roof. 

He’s staring unmoving into the distance, seemingly deep in thought. 

You step up beside him, placing your hands on the railing, waiting for him to explain this impromptu meeting. 

“Do you love me?” he whispers, not looking in your direction. 

“Yes,” you answer instantly, worrying your lower lip. You don't like the direction this conversation is taking, and he’s only asked you one question. 

“Are you in love with me?” he asks as he turns to look at you, the intensity of his stare making you awfully uncomfortable. 

“Always,” you reply. 

He nods once, turning back to the view of the city. 

The silence stretches between you. Irritation stirs in your chest. Why is he asking you these questions? “Do you?” you ask him. The world seems to hold its breath in anticipation, an eternity passing before he answers. 

“Yes,” he replies. “I couldn’t love anyone else but you,” he says, bowing his head, his metal hand gripping the railing so tightly it creaks under the pressure. 

You feel no sympathy, only red hot anger burning a hot path inside you. Rage, hurt, hopelessness. It all boils over. “What is the point of this meeting, James? Do you wish to hurt me? I am sorry for the way I reacted at our last gathering, but this is unduly cruel,” you snap.

“I-I ain’t tryna hurt ya. I jus... I ain’t good with words,” he says. Facing you once more, he reaches for your hand, intertwining his metal fingers with yours. After all these years, you are still the only one he touches with the appendage. “I would do anythin to take it all back. Every hateful word, every dumbass thing I said,” he sighs, drawing you closer to him, his flesh hand stroking your cheekbone lightly. “But I know it’s too late for that. And I ain’t gonna interfere, I jus…” he bites down on his lower lip, the words he’s attempting to get out stick in his throat. “I need ya. More than I think ya know. I know we ain’t gonna be together again, but I need ya in my life, please. Let me be your friend?”

“Oh, Bucky... how can we ever be friends?” you say, tears gathering in the corner of your eyes. “After everything that has happened? The love we share? How can that translate into friendship?” you ask breaking your gaze from his. 

He tips your head up by your chin, determination clear on his face. “Can’t we try at least? I’ll do anythin’!” he pleads. 

It clenches at your heart painfully, and you feel your resolve crumble. The iron wall you’ve built around your heart shatters with a look from those blue eyes. Your soul screams, pleads for you to say yes; to give in, to accept what he is offering you. “We can try,” you reply. 

The smile he graces you with his heartbreakingly beautiful, so full of hope and joy at those three words it brings a tentative smile to your own lips. “Good,” he says as he draws you in for a hug, nuzzling into your hair and breathing you in. 

You grip him tightly, savouring the feel of him, his scent, the way his body feels pressed against yours, the safety you feel when you are close to him. You can feel the soul bond soothe slightly, you feel lighter than you have in years, like you're walking on air, floating gently on a cloud of euphoria. 

“I have a question for ya,” he says as he ends the hug, leaving you slightly disappointed. 

You cock an eyebrow in question, waiting for him to elaborate. 

He takes a deep breath. “How am I gonna kill ya?” he asks, and your heart plummets into your stomach, dread wrapping around your throat, choking the very life out of you. He eyes you curiously. “You mentioned it when ya first came back, and Loki did, too. Do they... do they think the Winter Soldier would harm ya?” he asks, nervousness and regret evident on his face. “We both know he’s partial to ya,” he adds with a wink, trying to diffuse the tension with his trademark charm. 

Clamping down on the rising panic, you smile at him. “You know the soldier cannot resurface, James. I made sure of that. Loki is not afraid of you harming me, or turning back into him,” you reply, fidgeting nervously with the bangles on your arms, trying to formulate a believable lie. 

Bucky raises an eyebrow, seeing right through any lie you would tell. He knew you better than anyone alive. 

You cursed the bond. “I do not think you are ready to hear what I have to say on the matter, James. I beg you, trust me on this,” you say quietly, hoping he would accept it. 

True to his nature, he doesn’t. “Isn’t that my decision ta make, doll?” he asks tightly, his posture stiffening at your words. 

“Not in this case, James, you must trust that I do not keep this from you because I wish to hurt you, but because I do not wish to add to your worries.” 

He relaxes slightly, grabbing you by the shoulders, forcing you to look at him. “Moya zvezda.” My star, he whispers, the endearment rolling off his tongue, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach. It had been so long since you had heard those words. “Ya can’t keep tryna protect me. It didn’t work when we were with Hydra,” disgust filters across his face as the memories of your time together replay in his mind. He had never gotten over what he saw as the Winter Soldier taking “advantage” of you, no matter how many times you reassured him otherwise. “It won't work now. Just tell me so I can stop it,” he demands. 

You cup his cheek gently. 

He melts into the touch, his eyes shutting at the familiar action. 

“Moya serdtse.” My heart, you begin, “This is not something you can stop. It is not in your power. I am taking precautions. I beg of you to trust me!” you plead as he growls lowly in his throat. 

His eyes snap open, staring you down, willing you to break, to spill every last secret you have. He finds no weakness in your eyes, only grim determination. “I’ll drop it for now, Nyx, but I’ll find out eventually,” he says , stepping away from you. Cocking his head to the side, he listens intently to something only he can hear. “Ya best get going. Your fiance is lookin for ya.” Resignation laces his tone as he steps backwards, blending with the shadows and disappearing from sight as Thor's booming voice makes its way up the stairs connecting to the roof. 

Disappointment flares, but you squash it down. Putting on your best smile, you make your way off the roof and to the man you were going to marry. Pausing briefly at the foot of the stairs, you turn toward the general direction Bucky had disappeared in.

“I wish to try, James. If I cannot be with you, then I will settle for being your friend. Do not shut me out,” you whisper, resuming the trek down the stairs toward Thor. 

For the first time ever you resent Thor’s presence, the unfairness of the situation clawing at you. You know it isn't his fault, he was merely trying to make you happy, to make the best of a bad situation. You feel immediately ashamed. This was not his fault. You had done this to yourself. The blame lay squarely on your shoulders.. 

“What a mess” you murmur aloud as you make your way back into the ballroom.


	12. The Awakening

Bucky’s POV

He watches as a thoroughly drunk Thor spins you around the dance floor, the Asgardian’s hands wandering ever lower He can only imagine the dirty things Thor is whispering in your ear. The way Thor’s hands roam your body so possessively makes him nearly nauseas.

It should be him, could have been him, but he wasn't worth it. Worth you. He had come to that stunning realization when you had screamed you were nothing but his whore. And it was the truth. He had treated you no better than he had during the Hydra days, seeking comfort in your body after a hard mission. His handlers would lock Winter in your cell, expecting he would beat you, force what he needed from you. 

Instead you would croon softly, coaxing him gently, gripping him tightly as he rutted into you, murmuring soft words of love as he came undone. 

It made him feel sick. Gritting his teeth against the onslaught of memories, he pushes off the bar, his eyes never leaving you. He finally breaks contact, searching the area for Steve, the latter already striding toward him. “I wanna leave,” he mutters. 

Steve nods. “There are beds made up for us in the tower. Tony didn’t want us driving. I’ll show ya,” he replies, steering Bucky toward the elevator. 

Casting one last look over his shoulder, he’s just in time to watch Thor kiss you passionately. It sends a dagger straight through his chest. As he strides into the elevator, Steve presses the button for the seventh floor.

“What are you doing, Buck?” Steve says sternly, staring straight ahead.

“I don’ know what ya mean, Steve,” he replies. 

Steve heaves a sigh and presses the emergency stop button, turning to face Bucky, his expression leaving no room for argument. “If ya wanna be her pal then be her pal, but stop playing with her emotions. It ain’t doin either of ya any good, jerk. Besides, I can see what it's doin to ya. When last did you sleep through the night?” Steve demands. 

Bucky merely shrugs, staring fixedly at the wall. 

“Damn it, Bucky! We have a mission in three days, one you’ve been pushin’ for, for years! Six years you’ve been looking for information on The Baron. For her. For Nyx,” he rants, rubbing futilely at his temples, willing the headache away. “You need ta focus, Buck. You’re all over the damn place!” 

Bucky sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose as he throws his head back into the wall of the elevator. 

The resounding clank makes Steve wince, pity flaring in his chest for his friend. He hadn't seen Bucky this broken since you’d left. 

“She slept with him,” he whispers, “I know it sounds stupid, but a part of me was holding onto hope we would get together. That this was jus’ a nightmare I would wake up from, and she’d still be mine.” He sucks in a harsh breath, tears forming in his eyes as something deep inside him gives a painful tug. “Somethin’ ain’t right, punk. I can feel it in my bones. An ache, a longing to be close ta her, to have her with me. I can feel it like it’s a real thing, a living thing pushing me toward her.”

“Ask her on a date,” Steve suggests. 

Bucky’s eyes snap open as he turns to his friend with an, “Are you insane” look on his face. 

“No, hear me out. Ask her and Thor to go on double date with you and Rayne tomorrow night. Friend zone her. If you can see her in a purely friendly light, see her with someone else, it might knock your brain into moving on...” Steve trails off uncertainly, doubting himself even as he speaks the words. 

Bucky contemplates this for a second before nodding. “Yeah that ain't a bad idea, punk. I knew I kept ya around for something,” he jibes, earning a scoff from Steve. 

Whipping out his phone, Bucky sends a text to Rayne asking her opinion on the matter as Steve hits the emergency button once more, and the elevator springs to life. 

Her response is an enthusiastic yes. 

Now all he had to do was convince you, which was an entirely different matter. You would most likely flat out refuse. 

He smiles wickedly. He would ask Thor for the Asgardian never turned down “revels”, and what better way to show off his intended bride? The smile slips off his face as the thought enters his head. 

He needed to take care of this. He needed to stop loving you, for both your sakes. He could see how torn you were, how it broke you to see him with someone else just as it had torn his heart from his chest when the lights went out. He used to be the only one who could make you lose control that way. 

Now it was Thor’s privilege. 

The elevator doors ding open and he steps out, waiting for Steve to lead the way to the designated bedrooms. He follows puppy like deep in his own thoughts, playing out possible scenarios in his head.

*****

Bucky had been laying in bed for three long hours, tossing and turning, images of you filtering through his mind eye. He felt hot, feverishly so. A painful ache developed in his chest every time he thought of you. He had no idea what was happening. 

The sheets felt wrong against his skin. The air conditioning blasting cold air into the room set his teeth on edge. Sighing heavily, he moves out of bed, ignoring the protests of his joints as he does so. Running his hand through his hair, a nervous tick he had developed when he escaped Hydra, he dons a pair of shoes not bothering with a shirt. He needed fresh air, an escape, room to think. He was suffocating in the tiny room, the walls were pressing down on him, making him feel caged, hunted, like Hydra would jump out any second and drag him back to Siberia. 

He makes his way to the roof once again, needing the open space it provides. Standing facing the city, the breeze soothes him, but only the physical aches. The mental ones never stop.. 

“You are fading,” comes an unfamiliar voice. 

He turns gracefully, crouching low in a defensive position, coming face to face with a smirking Loki. Bucky’s hands clench at his sides as he growls lowly in his throat, muscles coiled and ready to strike should the God of Mischief make the wrong move. 

“Calm down, sergeant. I am not here to harm you,” he says nonchalantly as he pushes off the wall he was leaning on. Striding forward purposefully, Loki regards the crouching soldier curiously. “I had thought you would be further into the unbinding as Nyx is. It seems I was mistaken,” he smirks as Bucky straightens, confusion etched on his face. 

“What are ya talkin about?” he demands, the syllables clipped, eyes narrowed, waiting for any indication of danger. 

“The soul bond,” Loki replies, arching an eyebrow at the bewilderment on Bucky’s face. “She still has not told you. Fascinating,” he remarks. Taking pity on the soldier before him, he sighs deeply, turning toward the twinkling city lights. “My brother will leave for Jotunheimr tomorrow evening. Nyx will be made to stay. She will have nothing to tether her. The potion I provided her will not last long, and she will fade quickly for she has nothing to tie her to this realm as you do.” 

Bucky stands perfectly still, hoping that if he says nothing Loki would divulge more. He knew Nyx was keeping secrets, perhaps Loki would tell him what they were. 

“You and Nyx are tied together by a bond made by Chaos. It is something granted only to Gods. There is a specific person made for each of us, be it human or God. Nyx is yours. Body, mind and soul. She was made to love you, and you her. The bond you share, however, is breaking,” he pauses, turning to face Bucky whose mind is reeling at the information. 

“I don’ understand? She never said a word ta me,” he mutters. 

Loki laughs, eyes sparkling with mischief. “She would not. You did reject her after all. I do not blame her from keeping this from you,” he quips, eyeing bucky up and down. 

Bucky’s eyes go wide, panic clear in them. “What happens when the bond breaks?” he asks, already dreading the answer. 

“She will die, and so will you. The part of you that is Erebus will wither into nothingness. You will have no recollections of your past life, your power, that which you have not accepted, which saved you from the fall. It will be ripped from you, and you will be left a shell, empty,.” he drawls, inspecting his fingernails as if the news means nothing to him, as if he were discussing nothing more pressing than a turn in the weather. 

Dread fills him. Nyx dead? No. He wouldn't, couldn't allow it. “How do I stop it? How do I fix it?” he yells, advancing on the Mischief God, only stopping when he is nose to nose with Loki. 

The latter merely laughs in Bucky’s face. “You cannot, I'm afraid. The damage is done. She will not accept you if she has any inclination I have told you about the bond.” 

Bucky growls, rage boiling over. He reaches for the lapels of Loki’s tunic, his hands go through the apparition. Surprised he tries again, only for Loki to laugh louder. 

“I am not physically here, fool. I am with the Ice Giants as my oaf of a brother left rather suddenly to attend to Nyx.” Loki sighs, taking pity on the irate man before him. “I have affection for Thor, he is a good man, and would make a fine husband for Nyx. He has loved her for many years, from afar, mind you. I do not wish him ill, but Nyx… Nyx is all I have ever wanted in a companion. I could not bear it if she was ripped from me.” He pauses, scrutinising the man before him. “You must accept yourself. You can do nothing for her if you continue to deny who you truly are. You must stop pushing her away, accept her love freely, and give it in return. She must trust you, and your intentions...” he trails off uncertainly, weighing his next words carefully. “You cannot do this because you want to save her, or yourself. Or because you could not carry the guilt with you. It must be a choice made out of love. A choice made out of free will or else the soul bond would morph into something tainted, unclean, and in turn Nyx and yourself would become something else entirely.” 

Bucky relaxes minutely. Nyx had never been a choice made out of necessity. But accepting Erebus? The pain of the past? That could pose a problem. Huffing out a breath as he turns, he runs a hand through his hair. Scrunching his eyes and gritting his teeth, he searches for the bits of himself he keeps locked away.The ever present voice of Erebus becomes louder in his mind. Instead of pushing it away as he usually does he embraces it. It wraps around his mind soothingly, washing away the pain and suffering he carries with him. Wisps of darkness intertwine up his legs, relief settles in him. A deep knowing grows in his heart, a sense of calm of rightness engulfs him. Suddenly he can feel the power flowing in his veins, ancient and strong. The wind picks up as a searing pain pierces his mind, Erebus rooting himself firmly in Bucky’s psyche, but he is not lost as he feared he would be. Instead a sense of peace washes over him, a feeling of being complete. He remembers everything, but he’s still Bucky.

He opens his mouth to speak, a language he’s never heard comes out in a voice so laced with power it sends a chill up his spine.

“Θα σώσω Nyx.” I will save Nyx. “Θα διεκδικήσω τι είναι δικό μου.” I will claim what is mine.  
Όλοι όσοι στέκονται μέσα μου θα καούν.“” All who stand in my way shall burn.

“Ο εβραίος έχει ξαναγεννηθεί!” Erebus has been reborn!

Loki grins widely as the darkness swells around Erebus. 

A faint red glow encompasses Bucky, his usually blue eyes a deep black as the transformation takes hold. Bucky would truly be a force to reckon with. 

Nyx was in for one hell of a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I aint sorry


	13. The Date

Thor’s POV:

“A double date?” you ask Thor in disbelief, the bit of croissant you were about to plop into your mouth hanging precariously from your fingertips. “Explain!” you demand, dropping the remnants of your breakfast back onto the plate, appetite completely forgotten. 

Thor looks down sheepishly. He had not thought having lunch with Sergeant Barnes and his Lady would elicit this reaction from you. Sighing deeply, he removes the discarded breakfast from the bed, placing the tray on the nightstand. “I did not know it would upset you so, my love, I apologize. Sergeant Barnes merely wants to start afresh. I had hoped this would be a good start.” 

You huff, anger swelling inside you. You swallow it down, but it doesn't fool Thor who scrutinizes your face and rises from the bed. Following him with your eyes, you turn to face him as he stands at the foot of your shared bed. 

He smirks, grabbing you by the ankles. Pulling you down the bed, he sinks to his knees, placing gently kisses to the inside of your ankles. “Forgive me, minn drottning,” he croons, his hands following a gentle path up your legs. The mischievous smile he gives you has your heart speeding up. He gently kisses his way up your leg, dragging the material of your night dress up, exposing you to him. “The plans have been made, we cannot change them now,” he says as he places an open mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, making you mewl. He spreads your legs further, exposing you fully, chuckling at the wetness he finds as you arch off the bed. “Eager my love? Say you forgive me, that you will accompany me to the gathering, and I will give you what you need.” He bites down on the flesh of your thigh, making you moan, fisting the sheets tightly. 

“I forgive you.” Your breath catches in your throat as he licks from your opening stopping just shy of your clit. You groan in frustration as Thor chuckles. 

“And the rest my love?” he asks as he repeats the motion, driving you to the brink of insanity. Thrusting his tongue inside you, your hands fly to his hair, tugging him closer to you. He moans low in his throat, the vibrations sending shock waves through you, making your legs shake and the coil in your belly wind impossibly tighter. 

“Yes!” you cry, your hips grinding against his face. Head thrown back, back bowed unnaturally, Thor laps at your opening, delivering a sharp slap to the back of your thigh. The sting heightens your pleasure. You cry out sharply, so close to coming undone, but he pulls away, smiling lazily through a fog of lust. 

His face glistens with the evidence of your arousal. “You will accompany me my love? You promise me this?” he rasps, his voice low and husky, eyes darkening as he takes in your writhing form. “You are breathtaking when you are stretched out for my pleasure,” he remarks, his own arousal heightening as you whimper at his words. “Say you will, love, say you will try for me,” he coaxes. 

“I will! Do something for heaven's sake!” 

He grins cockily, places a finger on your clit sending a short bolt of electricity directly to your core. 

You scream as the sky goes black, your body convulsing, shaking as you gush over his hand. 

Lightning strikes as he moans at the sight. Hand straying to his erection, he grips it firmly through the fabric of his sweats before he’s ripping his pants down, palming the engorged appendage in his hand, stroking and tugging in time with your writhing. He moans low, pre-cum beading at the tip as he watches you, your body quaking with the aftershocks, high pitched whimpers leaving your lips. 

He reaches for you, flipping you onto your stomach and hiking you up by the hips. Dragging his cock through your folds once, twice, biting his lip as you push back against him, he pushes in slowly, watching as he disappears into your tight, welcoming heat, your velvet walls gripping him tightly. He grunts as he starts to thrust, gripping your shapely behind in his hands, your sinful moans music to his ears. Stalling his movements, a surge of desire rushes through him as you rock back on him without his assistance. “Yes, my love, take your pleasure from me,” he growls as you rock faster. Running a hand up up your back, sparks of electricity dancing across your skin, making you clench around him spasmodically. “Fuck” he curses as he pushes your face into the mattress. 

Hands travelling back to your hips, he hikes them up further, spreading your legs wider, bringing you roughly down on him. He sets a bruising pace, moans loudly when a fresh wave of your juices coat his cock, increases the pace further. He knows he has hit the special place inside you when you scream his name, begging him to go faster, begging him to take you harder. 

Gritting his teeth, he channels his lightning to his thrusting dick, every pass over your g-spot is met with a sharp shock until your entire body seizes. His breath catches in his throat at the tightness of it. 

You’ve lost control of your body, hips bucking wildly, thighs clenching as you scream out your ecstasy. The world is once again plunged into darkness, lightning being the only light as he comes loudly, hips jerking sloppily as he fucks you through your orgasm. 

Grunting with each clench around his cock, with each thrust, you milk him harder and it leaves him breathless. White fills his vision as he experiences the most intense orgasm of his long life. Pulling you back by the hair, your body giving out doesn’t stop the movement of his hips. He wraps an arm around your waist, crooning sweet words of praise in your ear as he brings you both down, rubbing soothing circles into your soft skin as you slump against him, breathing heavily, a light sheen of sweat making you glow in the returning light. “Shh, minn drottning, you did so well,” he murmurs in your ear, biting down on the lobe, making you shiver. Pulling out gently, he watches with satisfaction as his essence runs down your thighs. He lays you gently on the bed, where you stretch out like a cat. It brings about new life to his spent member, but he only sighs, knowing you could not take another round. 

Entering the adjoining bathroom, he dampens a washcloth with warm water and returns to the bedroom, gently cleaning you, ignoring the soft moan which comes from you as he does so. Discarding the wash cloth, he joins you on the bed, pulling you onto his chest, your long, dark hair splaying across him. The feeling of contentment is indescribable. He had you in his arms, and that was enough, even if he was not the one you wanted. 

You sigh happily and he smiles, a wide self assured smile, which makes you laugh lightly. “You are a wicked man, Thor Odinsson,” you say tiredly and he laughs a full belly laugh, jostling you as he does so, causing you to squeaked indignantly. 

“Ah, my beautiful bride, I did not hear you complaining.”

Your POV

 

“Natalia! What is this confounded garment called?” you huff in frustration. 

She giggles at you. “A crop top,” she replies. 

“A crop top? There is no top to the crop! It bares everything! This cannot be acceptable?” you demand, your attention snapping to your pants. “I can barely move in this contraption! Why is it so tight? Natalia!” you whine, trying your best to stomp your foot only to be hindered by the limited range of motion your pants provide. 

“Thor seemed to like it when I showed it to him,” she defends. 

You throw your arms into the air, staring at her in disbelief. “You trusted him? He is a man! An Asgardian one, he has never seen garments like these! At least not on me!” Throwing yourself onto the bed, cursing Thor’s skilled tongue as you go, you pout. 

“Just wear it, it won't kill you. Jesus you’re a baby,” she mutters, barely suppressing silent laughter. 

Grumbling, you right yourself, grabbing the leather jacket she provided as you storm out of the bedroom, searching for Thor, ready to give him a piece of your mind. You're stopped dead in your tracks as Bucky comes into view. 

His darkened eyes meet yours. He stands taller, more self assured. His hair appears darker, the black ring around his eyes nearly engulfing the blue as he looks at you, he smirks at you. Smirks. 

You are momentarily taken aback by this act of confidence. 

He bites down on his bottom lip, his eyes roaming your body freely. “αστέρι μου.” 

My star, filters through your brain as you take an involuntary step forward, your body answering the plea before your mind has a chance to catch up. 

The spell is broken when Thor's meaty hand lands on your waist. 

Bucky’s smirk widens further then falls when a delicate feminine hand rests on his arm. Irritation moves across his face briefly as he wrenches his eyes away from you, leaving you reeling, and confused. 

“Shall we go?” Rayne asks, her melodious voice raking across your nerves. 

Bucky nods, as Thor steers you from the compound, making idle chatter with Rayne, a desperate attempt to diffuse the tension in the air. 

It’s a strained fifteen minutes to the restaurant, filled with awkward silences and meaningful glances. 

Thor’s possessiveness has come out in full swing. He takes every opportunity to place a kiss to the top of your head or whisper something suggestive in your ear. 

Bucky seems unfazed by all of this, merely smirking at the Thunder God. 

Thor is getting angrier by the second, and you breathe a sigh of relief when you pull up to the restaurant.

Bolting out of the car into the cozy setting, you hurriedly giving your name to the hostess who seems taken aback by having two Avengers in her immediate line of sight. 

Her mouth opens and closes as she searches for something to say. 

Taking pity on the woman, you snap your fingers in front of her face bringing her back to earth. 

Sputtering, she apologises and searches for the reservation name. 

Bucky leans in closely, placing a hand on your waist, whispering softly in your ear, “You always were impatient, γατάκι.” 

Kitten. Goosebumps erupt across your skin as you gasp at the comment. Turning to face him, you hear Thor and Rayne go silent as Bucky smiles down at you, a cheshire smile, filled with mischief and malice. “Who are you?” you whisper back. 

His eyes seem to light up as he takes a step back, the hostess clearing her throat and ushering you to your reserved table. 

You can feel Thor’s anger, the hurt that little scene caused, and you reach for his hand, tracing small circles onto his palm. 

He relaxes minutely, squaring his shoulders, clenching his jaw. He nods imperceptibly, indicating all was well. 

You let your gaze fall to the floor, confused at the turn of events. 

Bucky’s demeanour was familiar, yet not. 

You couldn't put your finger on what was different. It irked you. Sliding into the booth, you expect Thor to move in next to you, but Bucky does. Your eyes snap to Thor’s who merely shrugs, taking a seat next to Rayne. 

He smiles beatifically at her, and you watch as she flounders under the charisma of Thor. 

You scrunch your forehead, a frown marring your features when Thor compliments Rayne on her beauty. 

Bucky snorts and turns his attention to you, his smouldering gaze pinning you to the chair, not able to pull your eyes from him. “You look lovely, doll. Who did ya get all dressed up for?” he says with a wink. 

You feel yourself blush. Wide eyed you watch him as he pulls a plush lip between his teeth. Your breath stutters in your chest. “Bucky?” you question. 

“Hmmmm?” he answers, as he turns his gaze to Thor and Rayne, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Looks like they’re hittin’ it off, don’t it doll?” he says, and your eyes snap to the couple in question. 

Rayne is leaning slightly into Thor whose eyes filter between her and you at regular intervals. he’s laying on the charm thick, and she’s positively vibrating under the praise. 

“What is happening?” you mumble quietly, the sudden turn of events has your brain short circuiting. 

Bucky chuckles low, casually draping his arm across the top of the booth. “I dunno, doll. It seems ta me your Thor is tryna make ya jealous,” he muses, eyes twinkling with mirth.

You become angry, a steady swell of emotion filling you to the brim. Eyes flashing black you hiss at Bucky, “I do not know what you are playing at, but enough! You asked to be my friend, yet this is not how friends behave.” 

His smile falls from his face, replaced by a look of hurt and then shame. He retracts his arm, looking up at you through his eyelashes. “Forgive me, αστέρι μου.” The endearment rolls off his tongue smoothly. 

You suck in a breath, a flicker of recognition sparking inside of you. 

“I won’t taint your last day with him. Won’t happen again, darlin, I’m still getting used to the friend thing,” he says softly, shaking his head, his loose locks framing his face. 

You release the breath you were holding, nodding slightly and smiling. “You are forgiven,” you reply.   
He winks cheekily and clears his throat. “Rayne, baby, ya wanna come sit over here? I'm sure Thor wants his best girl back.” 

She snaps out of her Thor induced haze quickly, a rosy blush tinting her cheeks as she scrambles away from him. 

You fight the urge to laugh at the absurdity of the outing, and slip gracefully out of the booth. Taking a seat next to Thor, you place a hand on his leg, squeezing gently in silent apology. You can’t help but notice the secretive glances Thor and Rayne share throughout the rest of the meal, as well as the blush Thor sports every time her eyes meets his. 

Bucky smiles his way through the entire thing. 

*******

You move silently through the compound, fuming at Thor who is trailing sheepishly behind you. 

His flirting had taken on new heights as the outing progressed. “Nyx, I am sorry, I do not know what came over me,” he says quietly, tugging at your hand. 

You rip it away, barking a harsh laugh as you whirl to face him. “You do not know what came over you?” you mock, your eyes flashing black as you stare him down. “I have given you my trust, I have given you my promise, I am to marry you, and yet you flirt with anything in a skirt?” 

He snarls at your words, advancing on you, his towering frame looming over you. “Did I not witness Barnes attempting the same thing? You are being hypocritical!” 

You grit your teeth against the wave of anger which consumes you. “The difference, Thor, is I told him to stop! You, however, continued to flirt with the harlot while I was forced to watch!” you scream, anger boiling over. At this rate you were going to wake the entire compound. 

He looks chastised, his mouth agape as he struggles to find the words to defend himself. 

“Am i not enough? Will I never be enough for the men in my life?” you yell as you turn your back on him, tugging at the ends of your hair, eyes wild. 

“Nyx, you are enough. I was a fool, let us not part in anger,” he says gently as he moves in behind you, attempting to drag you into an embrace. 

You side step him. Hurling a ball of power at the wall, you watch it explode, crumbling under the force. 

The resounding bang, has Steve scrambling out of his bedroom, hair mussed and eyes darting between yourself and Thor. 

“Nyx! Calm yourself!” Thor says as he backs away from you, hands held up in surrender. 

You snarl, wrapping darkness around your hands. The black tendrils run up your arms, cloaking you in it. “Leave,” you command, your voice vibrating off the walls as your Goddess takes over. Your hair becomes impossibly darker, it seems to glint like stars are woven into the strands. Your skin turns pearlescent, seeming to glow from the inside. Ignoring the pleading in his eyes, you hurl the accumulated power into the unbroken walls on either side of you, blasting holes straight through them. “I am not pleased,” you say as you turn on your heel, returning to your bedroom where you slam the door hard enough to make the windows rattle.


	14. The Marathon

You pace the room frantically the next morning, certain Tony would be knocking on your door any second to serve you with your marching orders. You had overreacted violently, and the pettiness you had thrown at Thor made you cringe. You were a mess, a hot bed of emotion simmering underneath the surface. 

Bones aching, the pain in your chest near suffocating, you sit down heavily on the floor. Placing your head in your hands you breath out a deep sigh, ignoring the twinge in your chest. You knew good and well what was happening. The display of power had drained you, placed extra strain on the soul bond, and you were now suffering the consequences of your little fit of pique.

A tentative knock sounds at the door. 

Panic fills you. You contemplate the next course of action. Seeing no way out, you bid the intruder to enter, not daring to lift your eyes.

A pair of biker boots enters your line of sight, followed by shapely calves clad in stonewash jeans. He crouches in front of you. “Hey, doll, how ya doin this mornin?” Bucky's soothing voice washes over you, alleviating some of your panic. 

“Have you been sent to throw me out?” you ask quietly, not daring to look at his face. 

He laughs lightly, prying your hands away from your face. “You ain't goin anywhere, doll. Tony’s had worse/ I brought gifts,” he says, motioning toward an assortment of snacks and what looks like a box. 

You perk up instantly. “Food?” you squeal excitedly, rising to your haunches, vibrating with excitement. 

Bucky chuckles at your antics, pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. 

You stare at him expectantly, eyes shining. 

“Ya remember before ya left? We were watching that show ya liked, Game of Thrones.” you nod quickly, he smiles, “Well, there are a couple more seasons now. I thought maybe we could watch it together? Relax before the mission tomorrow,” he says, a hint of nervousness entering his voice, a light blush dusting his cheeks. 

“Oh! Of course. I would relish the company. I have been feeling out of sorts lately. A distraction is just what I need,” you reply, grabbing the snacks and yanking him to his feet, ushering him to the dvd player and throwing yourself onto the bed. Wiggling to make yourself comfortable, arranging the snacks at the perfect angle, you wait as he pops in the dvd and presses play, hurrying over to join you. You stare wide eyed as the theme song starts playing. 

Hearing Bucky’s soft bass resound in your ears as he hums along to the song, you stifle a giggle and clear your throat. Taking a breath you start to sing, “Duh duh dah dah daaah dah dah daaaah!” 

Bucky’s eyes snap to yours, smiling widely as he joins in, your voices mingling loudly in the bedroom. Punctuated by snorts of laughter, he throws his hands in the air, rising to his knees, head thrown back as he sings the last note dramatically, flinging himself backwards as the note dies aways. 

You laugh a full belly laugh, barely able to breathe as he grins at you. 

He reaches for you, pulling you close to him, snuggling into your hair as your laughter dies away. “I missed this,” he murmurs. 

“I missed you.” You place a kiss to his forehead, ignoring the spark of electricity it brings to your lips. “Do not dwell on the past, James, it is over now,” you say as you snuggle deeper into his arms, eyes glued to the television as Bucky traces circles onto your back. “I’m glad we are friends,” you add as afterthought. 

Bucky stiffens imperceptibly, merely grunting in acknowledgement. “Is that all we are?” he asks, his hand straying to your hair, wrapping a silky strand around his finger. 

You sigh, fisting your hands tighter into his shirt, breathing in his scent, burying your face into his chest, melting into his soft touch, missing the smile on his face as you do so. “No” you reply, “We will never be just friends, James, but this is all we can be.” Rising slightly to look at him, you’re surprised by the sweet smile he graces you with. 

He cups your face gently, placing a soft kiss to your plush lips. 

Your breath catches in your throat as he hums against your lips, licking his own, like he’s savoring the taste. 

Swallowing down the disappointment you feel when he pulls away, he winks, a knowing look gracing his face. 

His lips twitching into a smirk. He exudes a dark confidence which has you afraid and aroused. A dangerous glint in his eye seems awfully familiar. The smile stirs a long forgotten memory of fleeting embraces and sighs in the dark. 

Your body reacts before you can stop it, a rush of wetness pooling in your underwear. 

Bucky breathes deeply as you subtly try and rub your thighs together. He closes his eyes, a miniscule twitch to his lips as he does so. 

You fight down the moan climbing up your throat as you watch him, heart hammering in your chest 

“Watch your show, doll. You’re missin the good stuff,” he replies, leaving you feeling confused as he turns his attention back to the television while you attempt to calm your breathing. His hand snakes back to your hair, tangling in the thick locks. He tugs gently, making you whimper, your hand grabbing onto his thigh to steady yourself. “You alrigh’, doll?” he asks, his voice pitched low as he watches your reaction like a hawk, shifting you slightly so he was once again staring at your flushed face. 

“I am well,” you reply breathlessly, your hand fisting into the bed spread. 

“You’re lookin a little red there, darlin. You comin down with somethin?” he croons, a single finger trailing up your bare leg, stopping at the hem of your shorts. “You’re feelin’ a little hot too, darlin. Ya need ta cool down?” he asks as you arch minutely, failing to notice the darkness he exudes, the black glamour which seems to encase him. 

Tendrils snake up your leg, caressing your delicate flesh, sending waves of desire rushing through you. You gasp, eyes flying open, turning black as Bucky, chuckling, pushes you onto your back, 

“Oh baby, look at that view,” he says as you moan. He’s not touching you, but the force of your lust has you moaning. 

You slam your legs closed and he laughs louder. 

“Such pretty eyes you have, darlin, blacker than the darkest night,” he says as he runs a finger around a pert nipple. “What I wouldn’t give to be inside you,” he moans, pinching the nub through your shirt. 

“Oh!” you cry, bucking your hips forward. 

He smiles wickedly. “Don’ worry, doll. I'm gonna take good care of ya.” He places both hands on your legs, forcing them open, shifting himself in between them. 

It’s then you notice the black strands snaking up your legs, disappearing into your shorts, caressing at your dripping folds. “Fuck!” you scream, eyes rolling back as you come, chest heaving, back arching. 

“Who am I?” Bucky growls, increasing the pressure. “Nyx! Who am I?” he demands, as he prolongs your orgasm. 

You can barely form words, barely breath, nothing but whimpers and moans falling from your mouth. 

He relents, running gentle hands up the insides of your thighs. “Tell me who I am, Nyx” he croons, crawling up your exhausted frame. 

“Erebus,” you whisper, a tear falling from your eye. 

He laughs joyfully, darkly, as he pulls you up by the back of the neck, kissing you so fiercely you fear you will never be able to breathe again. “I’m here, my love. You will be mine again,” he whispers. 

You melt into his arms as your engulfed in a whirl of black, seeing nothing but Bucky. You could never see anything but him. You reach out to touch his face, mouth opening to form words.

Gasping, you sit bolt upright in bed, sucking in lungfuls of air as Bucky tries to calm you down. 

“Ya fell asleep, doll. That must have been one hell of a dream. I tried wakin ya for five minutes, are ya alrigh?” he asks. 

You note a hint of satisfaction in his voice, and you shake your head violently, trying to shake the dream. “I was asleep? It felt so real,” you reply, focusing your attention on him. 

His eyes glint dangerously. Wickedly. Sensually. “Yeah, you’ve been asleep for at least five hours. You were exhausted, and I didn’ wanna wake ya,” he says as he soothes a hand down your back. 

“Oh. I am sorry, James. We were supposed to spend time together,” you apologise. 

He shakes his head. “No need, doll. I had fun.,. watching the show,” he says as he licks his lips, sucking on his bottom one as he does so, making your stomach flip. 

“I must have been more tired than I realised. Do you wish to resume our marathon?” you inquire lightly. 

He nods, grabbing the remote and pressing play. Tucking you against his side again, he turns his attention to the television. “Nyx?” he says, eyes never leaving the screen. 

“Hmm?” you reply, nuzzling into his chest. 

“If ya wanna moan my name for real, baby, all ya gotta do is ask"


	15. Thor makes a decision

Thor strides purposefully through the gilded halls, lost deep in his own mind. Images of Rayne filter through his head, but he clamps down on them, conjuring your face in his inner eye instead. The betrayal in your eyes as you stormed away from him brings back the acute shame he felt. 

He knew what it meant the minute Rayne laid her hand on him. A spark so pure, so potent, so mind altering had shot through him. Her eyes had sucked him straight in, and he had no idea what to do about it. 

The love he held for Nyx was still there. A love nurtured over many years, albeit in secret. You had never paid Thor much attention, choosing instead to spend your time with Loki, only attending to Thor when you needed a sparring partner. 

How torturous those days were. Your lithe body moving with deadly grace against his own. How he longed to have you for himself. Your fierceness drew him toward you immediately, your compassion for others, your kind heartedness. Now you were his, and while he was filled joy at the prospect of taking you as his bride, he longed for another, a yearning he could not stop or control. 

It filled him with fury. He wanted answers, a way to stop it. A way to return to the elation he felt before he met... her. Which meant he had to consult with his brother who would, in all likelyhood, choose not to lend his aid. 

Loki’s affection for Nyx, the bond shared between them, rivaled the brotherly love he held for Thor. Perhaps even surpassed it.

Turning a corner he rans into the man himself. “Brother,” he greets, dipping his head in acknowledgement of the raven haired God. “It is unwise to be in my company at the moment.” 

Loki merely smirks. Grabbing Thor by the arm he steers him to a conveniently placed divian, he shoves him down, and takes a seat next to him. “How this reminds me of the past, when we were once equals,” Loki says quietly, his face curiously blank of emotion. “Tell me what ails you, brother,” he adds as an afterthought, crossing his legs in effort to become more comfortable. 

“I have found my one,” Thor replies hanging his head in quiet shame, not daring to look his brother in the eye. 

“And it is not Nyx as you had hoped?” Loki says as he cocks his head to the side, intertwining his fingers on his lap. 

“I fear not. It is the sergeant's Lady. I made quite a fool of myself at a gathering, angered Nyx, and in the process lost my heart to fiery beauty. I know not how to proceed,” he says as he sighs heavily, placing his head in his hands. 

“Brother,” Loki croons, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Nyx is not now, nor will she ever be yours. Break the engagement! For the sake of your sanity, for the sake of your heart, let her go! She will never be yours.” 

Thor sucks in a shuddering breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he attempts to find a lie in Loki's words. “I love her, Loki. I have loved her for many moons,” he says softly. “ I have partaken of her body, given her my promise. How could I, in good faith, destroy her honor and my own, for a woman I barely know?” 

Loki contemplates his brother’s words carefully, tapping an index finger on his knee. “Nyx was no blushing maiden when she came to us. She bore children, had a husband. She has been through much in her time, and no matter what you think, brother, she does not, cannot, love you.” His words are harsh but necessary. 

Thor pauses, finally lifting his gaze to his brothers, searching his eyes for any deception. “What does that say about me? That I would so casually cast aside a woman who has been nothing but true to me. I cannot do it, brother, I cannot betray her so,” he says, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. 

Loki sighs, fully fed up with the conversation. He hardens his gaze, squares his shoulders and stares Thor straight in the eye. “She will leave you. That snivelling mortal oaf has accepted himself. It will not be long before he stakes his claim. He could save her life, and she would be happy. Instead you preen and moan about honor, completely disregarding the fact should you distance yourself from your woman, you too shall perish. Use what little brain you have, Thor! Break the engagement and save yourself. Save Nyx! For you shall die if you cling to her, so shall your lady, and Nyx is almost there.” Loki holds his breath in silent hope his thick skulled brother will accept his words. 

Finally Thor speaks, grim determination in his eyes, his jaw set in a hard line, the muscles in his shoulders tense, the blue of his eyes stormy. “You are right. I will end the engagement. She will be banished, but she will be with the man who could save her life.” He sighs heavily. “I only wish it did not have to come to this. That there were another way, some way to save us all the pain.”

Loki laughs, a genuine laugh, one which does not often come to light. He throws his head back, and Thor revels in the melodious sound of his brother’s laughter, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Nothing worthwhile ever comes without a little pain, dear brother. You will be happier for it,” he says as he catches his breath. 

Thor finds himself nodding stoically at Loki’s words, a renewed sense of purpose brewing in his breast. He would inform his father immediately of the new developments, and pray Nyx would forgive him given time.


	16. The soul bond

Standing quietly in the quinjet, holding your breath, you try desperately to sort through your tumultuous emotions. You can feel him walk up behind you, the quiet allure he exudes wrapping around you like a soothing cocoon. Suppressing a shudder,he comes to a stop behind you, a strong hand settling lightly on your waist.

“Are you alrigh’, doll?” he asks quietly, tracing small circles onto your hip bone, an action which serves both to soothe and arouse. 

“I am well. It is only that I have not seen battle in many years. I am merely nervous,” you reply, leaning into the touch, your back plastered against his chest. Closing your eyes, you breathe him in. 

He pulls you closer, nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and you allow yourself this one indulgence, this one moment of weakness. 

You sigh contently while Bucky’s chest vibrates with silent laughter. 

He places a single kiss to your neck, at the junction of your of your shoulder, a place most sensitive, and disengages himself from you. 

An embarrassing keen of disappointment escapes your vocal cords, causing red to color your cheeks as you clear your throat, realising the inappropriateness of the situation. 

“You’ll be fine, doll. Jus’ stick close ta me. I’ve got your back,” he says grinning lopsidedly and winking before taking his seat, buckling himself in. 

You swallow down the building fear, taking your seat next to him. Balling your hands tightly in your lap as the jet takes off, you ready yourself for the battle to come. 

********

“You have incoming,” Visions accented voice filters over the coms. 

Bucky’s head snaps in the direction of the incoming agents. He grabs you lightning fast, dragging you into the only room he can find, which happens to be a storage cupboard, barely big enough to contain his large frame, never mind comfortably holding two people. 

You shift uncomfortably, your chest pressed into the wall. 

Bucky’s body is wedged tightly behind yours, his hands resting on either side of your head, his attention firmly fixed on the never ending line of agents parading past the door. 

You shift again, brushing against him as you do so. 

He groans and coughs, his breathing picking up as he realises the position you both are in. “I’m a gonna need ya to turn around, doll face,” he rasps huskily, his hand straying to your hip. Squeezings tightly, his large thigh is wedged between your parted legs. 

You suck in a sharp breath, willing yourself to act like a grown woman and not a hormonal teengaer. “I do not think I can. Your leg is preventing me from turning,” you whisper, ignoring the shakiness of your voice. 

Bucky grunts, there's mild movement behind you, his leg disappears from between your legs, and before you can protest your turned roughly around, your back hitting the wall. His face is so close to your own you can see the beads of sweat on his brow. He instinctively ducks his head toward you, his lips parting, his hands straying further up your waist, coming to a stop below your breasts. Swiping his thumb side to side, you stretch toward him, your legs shaking, Bucky hikes a leg around his waist, dragging his free hand up the leather clad appendage. His breathing is coming out in harsh pants, and you aren't doing any better. 

You ache to touch him, but dare not.

“I can't take it anymore”, he whispers. Grabbing your other leg and wrapping it around him, the hand below your ribs travels to the back of your neck. “Please tell me you want this?” he rasps, grinding subtly into your core. 

The feeling sets you moaning. You can't form words, can't think. You open your mouth to reply, but are cut off as soon as Bucky’s lips meet your own. 

It’s desperate and hungry, sloppy and ferocious. It steals your breath and makes your head spin. You kiss him back, equally hungry, all sense thrown out the window as you let him steer you. 

His hands travel to your ass, pulls you impossibly closer. Never once breaking contact, his demeanor shifts from desperate to controlled, his hands roam your body freely, groping and kneading at your flesh, setting you gasping into his mouth. 

You can feel the smirk on his face. Opening your eyes to chastise him, to stop this madness, you are met by eyes blacker than midnight. 

Darkness pours out of him in waves. He smiles wickedly as he pulls away, his hand travelling into your hair as you stare wide-eyed. “Did you miss me, my love?” he asks, smiling devilishly down at you. 

You gape at him, your mind reeling, hope swelling in your chest accompanied by love and crushing sadness. 

He was here, right in front of you, your Erebus was whole. Alive! 

And you could not be with him. 

Tears form in your eyes as you try to formulate a coherent sentence. 

He shushes you, wiping the single tear away, recapturing your lips in a kiss softer, more tender than the previous one. 

It breaks your heart all over again. The fragile control you had over the pain, over the internal war which has been waging inside you, snaps. ou wrench yourself away from his lips, your own parting on a silent scream, the pain searing a hot path through your veins.

Your vision goes black, your mind foggy, you don't register the panic in Bucky’s voice. You don't feel him cradle you tenderly in his arms as he fights his way through hordes of Hydra operatives. You don't hear him murmur soft words of love as he lays you down in the quinjet. You don't see him snarl at anyone who dares comes close to you. 

You can only stare unseeing into the void, the pain so great you can barely think, barely feel. The grace you had fails you, and the soul bond finally breaks. 

There is nothing that can save you now.


	17. Limbo

It’s white. Blindingly white. Roman style vases and pottery litter the vast room, tapestry depicting your long lineage adorn the walls. You reach out blindly, shutting your eyes against the bright lights, trying to find any indication of where you had ended up. Your fingers are met with silk sheets, whispering delicately over your skin. You resist the urge to bury yourself deeper into the opulent material. 

“Mother,” comes a feminine voice. 

Breath catching in your throat, you dare not open your eyes in fear that this is all a dream, that she’ll slip through your fingers once again. 

“Mother, you must wake. There is not much time,” Hemera’s soft hand rests lightly on your brow, soothing you, coaxing you with her long forgotten gentle touch. 

“Mother, please!” a masculine voice pleads. 

Hypnos.

The flood gates open. Great heaving sobs rack your small frame. Your eyes fly open and you sit bolt upright, grabbing Hypnos and Hemera tightly by the hands, eyes scanning the room. 

They are all there. All fourteen of your children, sitting patiently at your bedside, beautiful smiles on their faces. Aether, Hemera, Moros, Apate, Dolos, Nemesis, the Keres, the Moirai, the Hesperides, Oizys, Momus, the Oneiroi, Hypnos, Thanatos, Philotes, Geras, Eris, Charon, Eleos. You count them off in your head, eyes memorizing them, drinking in their features.

“Mother,” The Moirai - the fates - whisper in unison, “We have had a vision. We have seen,” their powerful voices pierce your foggy consciousness, bringing you harshly back to reality, “your thread is still intact, mother,” Atropos says, swaying slightly. 

“You have many lifetimes yet,” Lachesis adds. 

“You must return to father. He bleeds without you. He suffers without you. You must find the strength to return,” Clotho says quietly, glancing discreetly at Hypnos who inclines his head in her direction. 

“It was my doing, Mother, my trespasses which doomed us,” he says shakily, his head bowed. “I ask your forgiveness so we may pass, so we may find peace.” He does not look at you, shame clear in his bearing. “I tore our family apart, caused so much pain... I...” he cuts himself off, shaking silently with tears. 

You reach for him, enveloping him in a tight embrace. Stroking his hair lovingly, you calm him. “Hush, my love. All is well, all is forgiven. Do not fret. Have no worry, for I have never blamed you.” 

He deflates in your arms, relief flooding him as he sags. Winding his arms around you, he squeezes tightly. “You must return home, you cannot stay here. You do not belong,” he says gently. 

Swallowing down the lump in your throat, you whisper sadly, “I do not have the strength to leave. I fear I, too, am doomed to roam these halls for eternity. To be stuck in limbo.” You are greeted by fourteen mischievous smiles, and, for some inexplicable reason, you are suddenly filled with dread. 

“Do not fear, Mother,” Thanatos smirks, “Father will see to it.” 

The entire room erupts in wicked laughter.   
************  
Bucky’s pov. 

He laid you gently on your once shared bed. 

You’re deathly pale, but smiling. A dream of happier times perhaps? Or maybe you have finally found the peace you sought for so long. 

Pulling up a chair, he places it beside your bed, taking a seat and cradling your cold, small hand in his larger meaty one. He brings it to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to the knuckles, praying to any Gods who will listen that you will come back to him, that he would hear you laugh, see your smile once more. 

He can't bear to look at you. 

Your hair is dull now, all shine gone. Dark circles frame your eyes and lips, once a sultry red are now blue. 

Blinking back tears, he hangs his head. This was his fault, he pushed you, forced himself on you. He let his heart and desire take control and had broken you. The moment the light left your eyes, the pained gasp that left your lips, he knew then, he had fucked up. He never could put your well being ahead of his own selfish desires and now you were paying the price for his actions. Sucking in a shuddering breath, he shuts his eyes, trying to keep the overwhelming guilt at bay. 

“You must share your grace.” Loki’s quiet voice seems to ring around the room. 

Bucky’s head snaps up, mouth gaping open. 

“And quickly, too. She will succumb soon,” he adds, concern clearly etched on his face. 

Bucky closes his mouth and snaps to attention, rising from his seat and peering down at your unconscious form. “How?” he rasps, the desperation he feels rolls off him in waves, making Loki wince at the potency. 

“You must channel a portion of your essence into her. It will bind you more tightly. You will share each other's thoughts, feelings, for all eternity. You will essentially become one entity. The bond she sought to break, the threads that bound you to her, will become a chain. You will never escape it.” Loki explains. “You must will her back to this plain. Take her hand, let Erebus take control, he will know what to do. He attempted the same for Hypnos. Alas, it was too late for his son,” Loki says sadly, recalling the complete defeat he had witnessed that day. 

Bucky closes his eyes, searching his mind for Erebus who had been uncharacteristically quiet, and finds him in a memory. 

Nyx laughing, surrounded by your children with Erebus looking on. The indescribable joy he feels is quickly replaced by determination as the mirror image of himself turns to face him. No words are needed. He doesn't need to think for Erebus knows what he’s asking, giving a nod and smiling beautifully. 

Bucky feels only calm as Erebus takes control, and takes your hand lightly, whispering loving words in Greek as he feels an overwhelming tiredness engulf him. A darkness settles over the room which seems to crawl its way inside you. 

Your eyelids flutter as his vision becomes blurry, the transference of power pulling on energy reserves he did not know he possessed. Color returns to your face, your breathing evens out as his seems to fail him. 

The last thing Bucky sees is your darkened orbs staring intently at him before he collapses into the arms of the mischief God.


	18. Bucky to the rescue

“How is he?” Steve asks tiredly. He had not left Bucky’s side during the twelve hours Bucky had been asleep, the exhaustion of the transference to much for his body to bear. 

You had slept for a time beside him, your own exhaustion forcing you to break your vigil over your sleeping one. “He is well. He dreams of home,” you reply. 

Steve’s eyes widen marginally. He seems to hesitate before he speaks again. “How’d ya know?” he asks cautiously. 

“I can see what he dreams, feel what he feels. He is in no danger,” you say softly. It was a strange sensation. You had woken in time to see Bucky pass out, Loki catching him as he fell, a new sense of self had wormed itself in your mind. You could feel his heartbeat, sense his emotions, hear his thoughts mixing with your own, binding you tightly together. It was alien, strange, yet oddly comforting, as if it was meant to be this way from the beginning, like it had never been any different. 

Loki places a steadying hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “My brother wishes to speak with you privately. He bids you attend him in your bedroom,” he says. 

You crane your neck to scrutinize his face, finding nothing but encouragement. It does nothing to quell the sudden horror that fills your soul. You could not marry Thor. You knew this now. Such a fool you had been to even consider the proposal. You had no choice but to end the engagement even if you were doomed to never be with Bucky, you could not love another. You would not sentence Thor to an eternity with someone who did not love him. 

Sighing heavily you rise shakily to your feet, smoothing out non existent creases on the hastily donned tunic you wore. “Watch over him, brother,” you say in parting, striding purposefully out of the room to meet your fate. 

********  
“My King,” you greet the golden God when he turns to face you, a small smile tugging at his lips. 

He inclines his head in acknowledgement. “My Lady, how do you fare?” he inquires. 

“I am well, my Lord. Tired, but I am on the mend.” You dare not say anything else, dare not break the silence that settles over the room like a blanket. 

Thor breaks first, heaving a resigned sigh. He strides forward, placing gentle hands on your shoulders. “Nyx, I formally break our promise of betrothal. You are released from all obligations to myself and Asgard. I have spoken with my father. He has promised you safe harbor in Asgard should you ever require it,” Thor says as your heart swells. 

You fight the grin forming on your lips, choosing instead the demure route. “Why?” you ask lightly, casting your eyes down to the floor. 

Thor chuckles, tipping your chin upward, making you look at him again. “The lady Rayne... is my one,” he replies, a cocky grin snaking its way onto his face. 

You fight the suprise you feel quite badly because Thor's booming laugh fills the room, startling you slightly. You rally. “She is mortal...” you whisper, pity flaring in your chest. 

He would perish when old age inevitably came for her. When her life ended, Thor the mighty warrior and Thunder God would be laid low, and he too would become nothing more than legend. “My father has promised it will not be an issue. He and Loki have made arrangements. She is to come back with me to Asgard where she will be crowned Queen when the time comes,” he says proudly and you can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. 

“I am happy you have found love, Thor. I am sorry I was not what you needed. My only regret is I caused you pain,” you reply, laying a hand on his chest. 

He engulfs you in a warm embrace. “Do not be sorry. My time with you was the happiest I have been in a millennia. I do not regret it, nor do I regret loving you, my lady. I ask only one thing of you,” he says into your hair. 

“Anything,” you reply almost instantly. 

He pulls away, regarding you carefully. “Do not let the fear of getting hurt dictate your actions. He loves you, you love him. You will work out the rest. You cannot hide from him forever. You have faced the consequences once. Do not be a fool again.” 

You bite your lip, looking down once more. He had hit the nail on the head. You feared Bucky. Not physically but emotionally, so much had happened, so much had been said, you doubted either of you could forgive the hurt that had been inflicted. 

“Nyx, promise me this,” Thor demands, forcing you to look at him. 

You close your eyes, clamping down on the panic. Sighing, before you can stop yourself, you answer three words that would change the course of your fate forever. “I will try.”

******

You silently creep back into the room where Bucky lays sleeping only to find him wide awake and talking to Steve. 

His eyes snap to yours as you enter, Steve stops talking abruptly, stands, and shuffles out of the room at lightening speed. 

“You are awake,” you say, striding toward him. Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, you scrutinize his face for any sign of distress. 

He snorts, “I’m fine, doll. Stop stressin.” Reaching for your hand, you intertwine your fingers with his. 

“Thank you,” you say, noting the confusion on his face. “Thank you for saving me” you clarify in a whisper, not daring to look at him. 

“What was I gonna do? Let the only woman I ever loved die? I don’ think so, doll,” he replies, a hard edge to his tone. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, willing yourself to form the words you know you have to say. Squeezing his fingers tightly you muster all the courage you have, steeling yourself for another rejection. “Is there hope for us, James?” you ask so quietly he has to strain to hear you. 

He chuckles softly, tightening the grip he has on your hand. “It ain’t gonna be easy doll face. A lot has happened. So much pain,” he trails off and your heart falls. 

Blinking back tears you find yourself nodding, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

 

“Hey now,” he says, “I ain't saying no. Jesus there ain't nothin I want more than to be with ya, doll, but we gotta take it slow. I don’ wanna fuck this up. Again,” he sighs, letting go of your hand and pulling you bodily toward him. He tucks you under his arm, holding you close while he strokes your hair. “I know you don’ trust me, sweetheart. I hurt ya, nearly killed ya. If we jump into this without takin the time... I don’ wanna lose ya again. I wanna do this right.” 

You nod in agreement. He was right after all. You needed a clear head, open eyes to make this work. 

“One day at a time?” he says tentatively. 

You peer up at him, smiling lovingly. “One day at a time,” you reply as he swoops down to kiss your lips.


	19. 8 months later

Bucky’s idea of taking it slow was apparently glacial. 

Your relationship had progressed smoothly. Issues and disagreements had been solved without a fight. Feelings had been discussed. You were happier than you had ever been. Long gone were the days where you and Bucky could not discuss things rationally. There was only one issue which remained problematic. 

Bucky refused to be intimate. He would deny you every time you made to deepen a kiss. Every time your hands would roam, he would pull away from you, making vague excuses and hurrying from the room leaving you feeling desolate and unwanted. 

Which was why you were currently curled into a ball on the bed, staring unblinkingly at the television, barely registering the opening and closing of your bedroom door, or the dip of the bed as he settled himself behind you. Wrapping his arm around your waist you tense, muscles locking as he freezes. You close your eyes against the onslaught of emotion, not daring to look at him. 

“Doll?” he asks worriedly, removing his arm from your waist, peering at you with concern. 

You don't answer, choosing to keep staring blindly at the T.V. 

“Are ya gonna talk ta me or ignore me?” he asks, irritation seeping into his tone. 

Letting out an unladylike snort, you rise from the bed, ignoring the way his eyebrows arch, or the deep scowl he sports, moving to the bathroom and slamming the door behind you, ignoring the curses he slings your way. 

Splashing your face with cold water, you wonder what exactly made you so abhorrent that the man who professed to love you wouldn't touch you. How had it come to this? To this place of pain and rejection? When had you become so ugly? Ignoring the tears falling from your eyes, you strip off the shirt you're wearing, one stolen from Bucky, and shrug off your undergarments. Turning the shower on and letting your hair cascade down your back, you run your fingers through the strands, unknotting the tangles as you go, waiting for the water to warm to an agreeable temperature.

The door slams inward, an irate Bucky filling the opening, his breathing ragged as he struggles to reign in his temper. 

You roll your eyes at the overly aggressive display, ignoring his presence completely as you try and step into the shower. 

He yanks you back by the arm, forcing you onto the cold marble counter. Planting his hands to either side of you, he crowds you, eyes never leave your own. 

You stare back defiantly, chin up, unwilling to let him win this battle. 

“What the hell was that? You’re ignorin me now?” he snaps, his lips curling back into a snarl. 

You refuse to answer. You don't trust yourself to, knowing all your innermost thoughts would come spilling out if you did, and you did not think you were ready to open that particular can of worms. 

“I thought we were past this, Nyx, but apparently we’re not,” he says as moves to leave. 

You grab his arm and he stops, turning to look at you, eyebrows raised in question. Nibbling on your lower lip, naked as the day you were made, you try to find the courage to ask the man you loved why he didn't want you. You felt exceedingly stupid and childish, but here you were in all your glory, and he didn't even bat an eye. 

He hadn't seen you bare in years, ran from you constantly. 

Were you that repulsive? Had you changed so much he could no longer bear looking at you? Taking a steadying breath, you try and cover your nudity, crossing your legs tightly and folding your arms across your chest. You don't notice Bucky’s frown or the way he tries to move toward you, faltering midway and coming to a dead stop. 

“Why don't you want me?” you whisper, the words nearly drowned out by the steady beat of the shower. 

Bucky blanches, spluttering a near incoherent, “What?!” 

You go beet red, ducking behind your hair, wishing the ground would open up and swallow you whole. Sighing loudly, you raise your voice enough to be heard over the pounding spray. “You heard me. It’s been nearly eight months, yet still you refuse to touch me, to be intimate. What have I done wrong?”

“What are ya talking about? You ain't done nothing wrong, doll. You’re perfect,” he says soothingly, coaxing your legs apart and shifting his hips between them. His hands travel up your sides, his thumbs sweeping side to side as he does so. 

The cool metal, a lovely contrast on your hot skin, causes goosebumps to erupt, and you swallow thickly, closing your eyes, again refusing to look at him. 

He sighs in defeat. “The last time something happened between us you ended up nearly dead, I didn’t want ta push ya before you were ready,” he says simply. 

Your eyes snap open. Glaring at him angrily you explode, “Are you fucking kidding me, Barnes!” 

Bucky looks momentarily caught off guard before he bursts into laughter, his large body shaking with mirth. “Oh god, doll! Did ya just swear?” he asks as he guffaws loudly.

You huff out an exasperated breath and shove at him, trying to push him away. “If you’re just going to make fun of me, James, you can get the hell out!”

Shaking his head, he fights your arms down. “Nyx,” he croons, the word full of reverence.

It stops your desperate fight for freedom, causes your breath to hitch and your pulse to race as your eyes latch with slowly darkening blues.

Taking your chin in hand, he tips it upward, kissing you deeply, lovingly, setting your eyes fluttering closed while you savor the first proper kiss you had shared in months. Expecting him to pull away at any moment and make another excuse, to your surprise he doesn't. Instead, he cradles the back of your head, deepening the kiss further. His free hand skims over your breast, gives your a nipple a short, sharp tug. 

You gasp into his mouth as he bites down on your lower lip. 

He pulls away, eyes hooded and dark. “I told ya, darlin, if you wanted to moan my name all you had to do was ask,” he says huskily.

You moan, remembering the dream, the way he touched you, the way he made you ache. 

Chuckling darkly, his hand travelling to your clit, he rubs small circles over the nub. 

Bucking your hips into his hand, you throw your head back against the mirror, moaning lewdly as Bucky plays your body like the expert he is. 

He sucks his bottom lip in between his teeth, his eyes trained on your heaving chest. Ducking down, he nips your hardened nipple. 

Your hands fly to his hair, tugging at the ends as he works you over, never stopping, never relenting. Soon you're moaning freely, slick dripping down your thighs, so close to coming you could cry, and you nearly do as you come undone. 

Bucky holds you tightly, crooning softly as you sob out your pleasure into his neck. “That’s it, baby, such a good girl. You’re doing so good for me, darlin,” he praises as he works you through it, removing his hand from your clit before he overstimulates it. He kisses you softly, coaxing you back from the brink while unzipping his pants and shuking them down his thighs. His erection slaps against his toned abs, pre-cum smearing against the smooth, tanned flesh. He wastes no time lining himself up and pushing into you, moaning lowly at your tightness. 

 

You keen at the feeling as Bucky sets a slowly sensual pace. 

His lips sealed to yours as he moans in the back of his throat. The slick drag of his cock leaves you breathless. He grabs you by the butt and angles your hips upwards, driving directly into your g-spot. 

“James!” you wail, scratching long red marks down his back. 

He increases the speed, placing small kisses to your neck, punctuated by soft bites. His breathing is ragged and harsh. 

Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist, you use your heels to drive him deeper, encouraging him to go harder. 

He obliges with a feral snarl, ripping himself away from your neck so he can wrap his metal hand around your throat, pushing you into the cold glass of the mirror. His eyes are trained on where he’s disappearing inside you, and he lets out a long, drawn out moan, causing you to clench tightly around him. “Fuck! Just like that, baby girl,” he growls. 

You can barely speak, soft keening sounds escaping you, a slight ragged wheeze from the pressure around your windpipe. When he grabs your waist hard enough to leave faint red marks with his flesh hand, you beg as best you can, “Oh James, please, harder!” 

He shifts slightly, bracing hard into the stone floor, driving up with more power, more speed. His metal hand releases your throat, slams flat into the mirror hard enough to make it crack. A deep, reverberating growl chases the tinkling sound of glass falling on marble. His hips snap furiously into yours, rubbing deliciously against your sensitive clit. 

The world darkens, night falls, and the glory of the universe appears above you. Stars and planets, galaxies and supernovas spin, dancing above you as the true might of Nyx and Erebus is reborn in the fires of passion and love.

You clamp down on him, legs quaking, back arching, hands darting up to tug and tangle in his hair. The feeling is everything you love, everything you’d thought you’d lost. It is life and joy and magic. It is the wind in your wings and the night sky above you. The fire in your belly burns once again for the love of your soul is back with you, loving you, bringing your body to the very peak of pleasure. A scream echoes off the walls as you come, hips bucking against his own, grinding him further into you. 

He curses harshly underneath his breath as your clenching walls coax him into following suit. The hand on the mirror falls to the countertop, clamps down as his grip on your hip turns bruising. Hips snapping forward in a frenzy, the marble counter gives way when Bucky rips out a chunk of it as his darkened eyes turn fully black. “Fuck, oh fuck!” he bellows as he falters, mouth slightly open, a thin sheen of sweat coating him. 

You feel the heat of his release coating you and you moan softly, thoroughly exhausted. Thoroughly pleasured and fully satiated for the first time in… you can’t remember how long, you can do nothing but ride the wave of bliss as Bucky finishes, breathing heavily, a slightly dazed expression on his face as he comes to a stop. 

There’s silence for a good minute as you both catch your breath, neither of you wanting to break the post coital haze that surrounds you. 

You come too first, eyeing the shower covetously while gently playing with his hair. “How fortuitous we left the shower running,” you say coyly as Bucky smirks at you, placing a soft kiss on your swollen lips. 

“God I love you, doll,” he replies, as he picks you up without pulling out and carries you to the shower, placing playful kisses on your face as he goes. 

You laugh joyously. You were back with your Erebus. Together you would conquer all who stood in your way.


	20. Epilogue

“Are you well sister?” Loki asks worriedly as you sigh heavily, wiggling your toes in the God awful shoes Natalia had seen fit to stuff your swollen feet into. 

You glance toward him, his face paler than usual, pinched as his eyes roam your body, looking for any signs of discomfort. You suppress a snort, choosing to smile sweetly at him instead of laugh like you want to. “I am well. Stop fretting like an old woman. Should you not be with the bridal party?” 

Loki glances toward the main table where Odin sits, all seeing, beside a thoroughly soused Thor, as Rayne looks nervously on, sneaking glances at the all father while desperately trying to get her new husband to stop yelling for more mead and making increasingly suggestive remarks about their wedding night. 

Stifling a giggle at Loki’s put out expression you gently grab his hand to pull your large frame out of the plush chair. 

“You should not be walking! Curse that fool for bringing you here! You should be at home resting!” he nearly yells as his face turns an interesting shade of puce. 

You shush him with a dismissive wave. “I am exactly where I need to be, Loki, and I am not an invalid,” you chastise lightly, scanning the area for Bucky who had disappeared nearly an hour ago with SIf, talking animatedly about Asgardian liquor and it's wonderful restorative properties. By the end of night you would, undoubtedly, be holding his hair back as he purged his stomach of the potent drink. 

Sif was the master of mead drinking, she had no rival, often drinking Thor under the table. 

Bucky was by no means her equal, Erebus or not.

You sigh heavily. Your feet and back were aching. You were exhausted, and you wanted nothing more than to retire to your chambers and sleep, for at least a year, perhaps more.

Holding tightly to Loki as you make your way forward, the guests parting in front of you, you nod graciously as you move through the sea of people, winking mischievously at Rayne as you pass the wedding table. 

She blushes a lovely shade of pink and ducks her head, a small smile playing on her lips as Odin claps his hands, signalling the start of the bedding ceremony. 

Loki guides you safely through the cheering crowd, ushering you around a corner as a sharp, hot pain lances through your belly. 

You whimper softly, grabbing onto the wall for support, your left hand flying to your stomach. Doubling over, you gasp, eyes snapping to Loki’s as he hops from one foot to another, panic evident on his face. You swallow down the hysterical laugh at his antics when another shooting pain pierces through your mirth.

“What do I do? What I do?” Loki asks, stuck between trying to help you and bolting head first out the corridor in search of someone more qualified to deal with a heavily pregnant woman who is going into labor. 

“Shush, Bucky will be here momentarily,” you assure him, breathing through the pain, a little annoyed at having to be the one doing the assuring instead of being assured, but such was the nature of Loki and your relationship. You can feel Bucky’s excitement, and slight panic, as he races toward you, a crooked smile making its way onto your face as the emotions spill out. 

It's not a minute later that he comes skidding around a corner, his eyes darting about the abandoned corridor, finally resting on you. He takes two giant strides before he’s in front of you. “Hey, darlin,” he says as he picks you up, the smell of mead hot on his breath. “You doin’ alright? Our little tikes ready to come out and meet us?” he asks as he follows Loki down the hall to an empty bedroom. 

You grunt in acknowledgement, the pain greater than anything you had ever experienced. 

He lays you gently on the bed, speaking in a low voice to Loki who nods and exits the room. Bucky rolls you onto your side, positioning himself behind you, and begins rubbing soothing circles on your belly, muttering unintelligible nonsense that you don't register, far too focused on the twins who are, apparently, attempting to split you in two. 

You don't remember it being this painful with your other children, but it was so long ago. You bite down on the scream bubbling its way up your throat, while Bucky mutters “Breath” under his breath. Irritation at his calm tone rises to the surface, and you swat his hand away from your stomach, your face pinched with annoyance. “Stop it!” you hiss, “This is all your doing!” 

He looks mildly confused, but rallies magnificently, nodding morosely as what seems like a thousand midwives enter the room, ushering him out bodily as you start to scream profanities. 

********

Five hours, and a whole lot of swearing later, your twins enter the world, kicking and screaming, with a full head of raven black hair and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. 

Bucky stands silent and in awe as he watches them sleeping, so caught up in the beauty that you had created together he can't bring himself to move or speak. 

You recline exhausted against the pillows of your bed, watching him carefully as various emotions filter across his face. You smile softly to yourself. Clearing your throat, he doesn't look at you. “What will we name them, my love?” you ask gently as he stares at his son, who had, in his sleep kicked a hole through the bottom of his crib. 

He was definitely his father's son. 

Bucky smiles brilliantly. “Andreas” he replies, finally raising his eyes to meet yours. 

You giggle softly, nodding in agreement. “Fitting,” you agree, your eyes moving toward your daughter who was staring at her father with an intensity a newborn should not possess. 

Bucky moves toward her crib, picking her up and cradling her in his arms. 

Her little arms and legs stop waving in the air as she seems to melt into her father's embrace. Her eyes drift shut as she falls to sleep under her father’s watchful eyes. 

Bucky doesn't hesitate. “Enyo,” he says confidentially, glancing at your for approval which you provide happily. Placing his sleeping daughter back into her crib, he climbs into bed, careful not to jostle you as places a kiss to your forehead. 

“I agree. She is fierce already,” you reply, entwining your fingers with his. 

He sighs happily, staring lovingly at you. “Thank you,” he says, causing your heart to swell in your chest. “Thank you for bringing the light back into my dark.” Cupping your face gently in his palm, the love shining in his eyes brings tears to your eyes. 

Stretching up, you kiss him with all the love in your soul as you thank every God still in existence for reuniting him with you.


End file.
